When She Comes Around
by ForForever19
Summary: After Quinn gets kicked out for her sexuality, Rachel writes to her mother years later. - 'Dear Mrs Fabray, you don't know me, and I suspect you probably don't wish to know me. See, my name is Rachel Berry and I'm your daughter's girlfriend.' Future AU in 3 Parts.
1. Cold Little Heart

Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **Part One**

 **Cold Little Heart**

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray**  
 **From: rachel_berry**  
 **Subject: Hello there.  
Date: 9 June 2016**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

You don't know me, and I suspect you probably don't wish to know me. I've debated endlessly about sending you this email and, after a few days, I've decided that I need to do it more than you deserve to receive it. See, my name is Rachel Berry and I'm your daughter's girlfriend. I imagine I'm the last person you expected to hear from, and it's perfectly all right if you stop reading at this point. Regardless, I just have to write it, for me and for Quinn.

I found your email address in her contact book, and I've written and rewritten what I want to say countless times. It took me a while to realise that nothing will ever come out right, regardless of how I say it.

You see, your daughter graduated from Yale at the top of her class on Saturday. She walked that stage with the biggest smile on her face and I don't think I've ever been more proud of another human being in all my life, and I'm not even remotely related to her. She is beautiful, Mrs Fabray, and it just makes me wonder if you're as proud of her as I am. I can't imagine you could be, but I'm not a mother, so I wouldn't know.

Quinn doesn't talk much about you or the rest of your family. If I don't ask questions, I don't get answers. What I do know is that you all believe that being a homosexual is the greatest sin imaginable, and I'm unsure how to feel about that. Like I said, I'm not a mother, but I do think I would be more accepting of my own child and her sexual orientation. She once mentioned that she always felt that you knew she was gay before she came out; something about the way you used to look at her as if you were just WAITING.

It's one of those curious thoughts, you know. Because, if you did, it means that you didn't care about her orientation, or you couldn't bring yourself to care, and you still loved her enough not to make it a problem so long as your husband didn't know. I think it's the only part about you that I would find redeeming. I mean, I don't know you, but I already don't respect you. How can I when you're the woman who allowed her husband to kick out her own child? Now, Quinn really doesn't talk about THAT, and I would never ask her to discuss something that is clearly still very painful to her. She's been through so much because of you, your husband and your other daughter, but she's found a family here, with me.

She's happy here.

I don't know why I wanted you to know that. I don't think it's out of spite, and I don't think it's because I actually care what you think. I just want you to know that she's happy and she's loved and she doesn't want for anything in this world. She graduated from YALE, Mrs Fabray, and she's about to take the world by storm. I am so proud of her, and I like to imagine you must be too.

I've attached a picture of her from graduation. Regardless of your feelings on her life choices, I can't imagine anyone with a heart cold enough not to miss that smile. Do you see it? That smile? It's mine.

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. If you did happen to reach the bottom of this email, I think it'd be best if you didn't reply. Just know that she's being taken care of.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray**  
 **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again.  
Date: 9 March 2018**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

The first email was probably a lapse in judgment, but I have no excuses for this second one. It's just that Quinn and I just came home from her book release party and I had the urge to make sure you knew. She's officially a published author. It's this magical thing, really, and my pride is at a level in the stratosphere. The novel is about a young woman's coming-of-age as it were, and it deals with her struggles with various mental and familial issues as she attempts to find her place in the world while battling with her sexuality. Quinn gets asked if it's autobiographical in any way, and she always does this little half-smile and shakes her head as if she's keeping a secret. Which, of course she is.

We live together in New York, by the way. She moved here after graduation to work towards her MFA at Columbia (her thesis is the work being published), and the last twenty-one months have been some of the best and the worst. We're compatible, sure, but we've both had to adjust to living together for more than three days at a time. That's how we spent most of our undergraduate days, actually, with either one of us commuting to see the other. New Haven to New York and vice versa. I never thought I would ever find myself in a long-distance relationship, but everything about Quinn is worth it. SHE is worth it.

I don't know if you're actually wondering this, but I do like to tell the story of how we met. She's a writer, you see, and she claims that even she couldn't have come up with such a meet cute. It was the summer after sophomore year, and I was in New York working on a show. (I perform on Broadway, in case you were wondering.) It was a small part, in an off-Broadway show, that was probably more taxing than its worth, but I was on an actual stage and it was everything. Dreams are dreams and, when they come true, it's overwhelming and life-changing and, until a random night in the middle of July; I didn't even know that Quinn Fabray was a dream of mine.

Maybe it's cliche or whatever, but we actually met at a concert at this little bar in Brooklyn. Obviously, Quinn didn't want to be there - she claims that it SO wasn't her scene - but her high school friend, Brittany (do you remember her?) dragged her to see this band Brittany's girlfriend (they were 'just casual' back then) was playing at. Santana was in a band with one of my friends, Noah, and I was there to support him and them, and it was practically inevitable that Quinn and I met.

In the bathroom, actually. I found her in there, fixing her mascara, and there was just something about her that drew me in. Of course, being the self-aware idiot she is, she noticed my blatant staring and scathingly said 'take a picture, it'll last longer.'

So, I did. I took out my phone, focused my camera and snapped a picture (to this day, it's still her Caller ID on my phone), and my life has never been the same since. I don't even remember if the band was any good that night, and I don't even care that Santana ended up puking all over my boots because, on that night, I met the girl I knew I was going to marry, and my certainty on that has never wavered.

I guess it helps my case that she's still accepting of my affections all these years later.

Anyway, I've attached a link to purchase the ebook version of Quinn's novel. She goes by Lucy Quinn in the literary world. She doesn't want to be known for the surname 'Fabray,' and I definitely don't blame her. Why give the family something they've so easily thrown away? Her.

Still, speaking as unbiased as I can possibly be, the novel is brilliant. It's touching and moving, and there's angst and heartbreak and romance and so many life lessons. She's learned a lot, and she's grown immensely since you last saw her. I don't even think you would recognise her, and I just know that's a good thing.

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. Let's go with that whole no replying thing again, all right?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Double again.  
Date: 9 April 2018**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

I think I've started something. There were twenty-one months between the first and second email, and now just a month between the second and third. It's just that Quinn hit the Bestseller's list this morning, and we're all pretty much going crazy. She took the day off, and I called in sick (my poor Understudy deserves a show every once a while), and our friends all managed to get out of work (Santana's owed several days off after the gruelling clinical assessments she's just been through, Brittany's her own boss, Noah's never really cared about his job because it has nothing to do with music, and Kurt makes his own hours) and, when we asked what Quinn wanted to do to celebrate, she said she wanted to visit The Met.

You can imagine our surprise. Though, I suspect you're not all that surprised, are you? In the years I've known Quinn, she's never wanted to visit The Met. Ever. It's one of those places she steers clear of, and she's never really discussed it with me until today. The day she _knows_ she's achieved something, all on her own, at her own merit, and it's a badge she wears with pride today. Well, she should, but there's an undeniable sadness lingering behind her eyes.

I fully understand wanting your children to achieve the most they possibly can, and I also understand wanting what's best for them. The life of an artist can be difficult, and a lot of careers in the Arts can be frowned upon. I mean, I'm not a lawyer or a doctor or an accountant, and the first few years of applying my trade (I was still a student when I stumbled onto the scene) were a struggle. But I was happy, and that's all that's mattered to me and my parents. Which is why I can't possibly understand why you would tell a nine-year-old who has dreams of being a writer that she would 'fall through the cracks like all these other artists' while walking her through The Met. I can't imagine what it was like for her, having her mother pick an arbitrary painting and ask her to read the artist's name, just to point out that that artist's work means _nothing_ and they will never amount to anything.

Quinn is an author. A writer of words that move people in beautiful ways. She is an artist in every way imaginable, and you have absolutely nothing to do with that. She says that, if she'd allowed you to dictate her life, she would have become a lawyer like your other daughter. She says that it would have crushed her. She says that everything about the life you envisioned for her would have broken her because she would have forced herself into a marriage with a man and tried to do all she had to, to be the dutiful wife and mother you expected her to be.

So, I like to think you've blessed her with your ignorance. You've blessed ME with this tragically beautiful human being whose idea of a celebration is walking through The Met with her closest friends and just breathing in the art.

I've attached a link to the electronic version of the Bestseller's list, in case you need proof. Lucy Quinn is an artist, Mrs Fabray, and I can assure you that she will never fall through the cracks. I would never let her.

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. Oh, I definitely don't need a reply to this one.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 3.  
Date: 23 April 2018**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

I realise it's been only two weeks since my last email, but I need to send this one. This is not in any way an apology, but it was rude of me to take out my anger on you in that regard. I've been determined not to be angry with you for your ignorance and inaction because Quinn isn't angry with you. I think I would prefer it if she were, because her anger is much easier to deal with than her resignation and apathy. She just accepts the role you have and haven't played in her life, and that's that about that. I suppose it's because I met her after the fallout of her coming out and, by then, the anger had dissipated somewhat. Brittany tells me that it was bad, though, and I can believe it.

Quinn has moments when she lets the emotion get the best of her, though. They happen on very specific days, and I've been keeping track through the years. Birthdays are tough for her, and the anniversary of the day you let your husband disown your daughter haunts her from the moment her eyes open to the second she falls asleep in my arms. It's a day that she still struggles with all these later, and I don't know if knowing that would make you happy or sad.

Quinn's novel is reaching 'critically acclaimed' status, and they're talking about her in the way they talk about those authors that define generations. Her characters are both simple and complex, human in all the best and worst ways. There's just so much talk about her work, and she's actually leaving on a book tour after graduation. It'll be the first time we've been apart since she moved to New York, and I'm definitely not looking forward to it. I can barely handle the thought of ONE NIGHT without her, so I just can't imagine how you're handling a lifetime without her. You are strong in that regard, Mrs Fabray.

Other ways, not so much.

I've attached the link to my favourite review of the novel so far. I've always been a fan of _The New York Times_ , but I absolutely adore them now. You should read it. You should see how your daughter has turned her pain into perfect, beautiful art.

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. I think it goes without saying by now.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 4.  
Date: 15 November 2018**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

A lot has happened in the months since my last email. I've calmed somewhat. Quinn is well. She's happy and loving life as a PhD student. Columbia weren't willing to let her go, and she's revelling in being able to hone her skills and immerse herself in all the literary world is able to offer her. She's gorgeous like this. You should see her present to an entire auditorium, her words clear and strong and her brain working in that beautiful way that makes you stop and pay attention. Sometimes, I like to sneak into her talks just to hear her speak. Her voice is music; a melody of which I will never tire.

I don't know if you've heard or if you're following along, but Quinn won a National Book Award for 'Graceless.' We attended the ceremony last night, and it was amazing. Just being able to see Quinn in her element is everything you can imagine it is. In this world we both inhabit, it barely matters that she's gay or that her girlfriend performs on Broadway. Quinn Fabray - Lucy Quinn - is this magnet for philosophical discussion, and she's so open and giving these days. She talks about her experiences with an ease that she never used to. I think she didn't realise just how much of an effect her words have on those who read them, and the very character of Grace Serrano that she's created has left all the windows and doors open for dialogue about life and love and faith and tolerance.

You should know that she's saving lives.

Hell, she saves MINE every day.

You know, until last night, I didn't really understand how Quinn could enjoy the awards shows she attends with me. We get all dressed up and we walk the red carpet and we get asked all these questions, and I've always wondered why she's always eager to go when there's really nothing there for her besides me. And then I figured it out. It IS me. Last night, I stood there and watched as she worked the crowd, teased and pleased and smiled and lived, and I get it. She gets to see that in me when it's other way around, and I understand it now.

I've attached a link to Quinn's acceptance speech. Predictably, you nor any of your family is in it, but you should know that her experiences with you have given her a level of understanding of life that she carries with her and tries to put into words. It's because of your treatment of her that she can stand in front of a crowd of her peers and say 'I have survived, and you will too.'

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. I think, by now, it's some kind of disclaimer. Just making sure you know.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 5.  
Date: 16 January 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

So, I have a confession to make. Besides my parents and my best friend (Kurt, he's also my manager), you're the first person I'm telling. I bought a ring. I'm going to propose to your daughter, Mrs Fabray, and, if all goes well, we're going to be in-laws. Did I lose you there? Are you running away screaming?

I intend to ask her after the Grammys. I'm nominated for three of them, you see. It's my debut solo album, and I'm terrified. Quinn's so convinced I'm going to win that she has ME believing it, and I think I'll be devastated if I don't win at least one. She's planned a little getaway for us afterwards, regardless of if I win, because I go on my first headlining tour next month. She's just writing at the moment, so she'll be on the road with me for a few of those weeks, which is great news because I want her with me all of the time. I don't really handle the time we spend apart all that well.

Anyway, I'm going to ask her while we're on that trip (the little shit is keeping all the details a surprise), and I hope to return home as an engaged woman. She's turning twenty-five while we're away and I want to seal the deal, as it were. We're not getting any younger, and I want to make it official what I've known from the night I met her. I don't think I've been at all sneaky in trying to figure out what kind of ring she would like. Early in our relationship, she mentioned that she liked simple, complex things. I think I've accomplished that.

I've attached a picture of the ring for your perusal, if you feel so inclined. It's engraved with our initials. The 'Forever' has never been in doubt.

Wish me luck!

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. Refer to the previous email.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: SHE SAID YES!  
Date: 12 February 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

SHE SAID YES!

Also, I won a Grammy! Best New Artist.

Life is good. Life is great. I'm thankful every day.

We're in Bali, by the way. I've attached a few pictures of us on the beach and in the rice fields.

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. Disclaimer

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 6.  
Date: 5 March 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

I have returned to earth from the heights of happiness and joy. We're on tour now, just arrived in Texas and Quinn and I just got back from the stadium. She insists on coming to as many sound checks as she can because she claims she just loves to hear me sing. My fiancée, Mrs Fabray. She's my fiancée.

We're looking to get married as early as feasibly possible, particularly with our crazy schedules. She doesn't want anything big and, frankly, neither do I. There's already some buzz about the engagement because, the moment we returned from Bali, Quinn bought me a ring of my own. We're quite the pair now, each of us sporting rings that the paparazzi just love to snap pictures of. I've even dedicated a portion of my show to talking about it. Love and life and marriage. This right that we're now being afforded. It's magical, and I want to share it with my fans.

So, Quinn wants to get married in August, which is barely six months away. It's soon. I'm on tour for most of that time and I don't know how we're expected to plan an entire wedding in such a short space of time. Still, I would do it. I would give it to her because she so rarely asks me for anything other than my love. And, even for that, she doesn't have to ask. I give it freely and willingly.

Can you imagine? Come the end of the year, I'll be a married woman. Wow.

I've attached the link to a little clip of my live show where I talk about Quinn and the engagement. I don't know why I find it important, but I want you to know that I've never been afraid to love your daughter. I've never been shy to talk about gay rights and gay perceptions. We're just two women who love each other and would like nothing more than to do that without prejudice and hatred. That's all.

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. I've always wondered, if I didn't say it was best you didn't reply, would you?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 7.  
Date: 20 June 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Do you remember when I told you about those moments when Quinn feels the loss more than she does on an average day? Today is one of those days. We were discussing the seating plan with our wedding planner (his name is Orion, and he's gayer than gaylord himself - Quinn loves him), and Bride One's parents (that's Quinn) came up in conversation, and she fell silent. I was forced into explaining that you wouldn't be attending. My parents will be giving us away.

Oh, did I mention that I have two fathers?

So, one will give me away, as it were, and the other will walk with Quinn. I think it's rather perfect, really. She's their daughter as much as I am (though, we're not going to get into the potential grey areas that could create ethically). They love her as if she's their own, and I've never been more grateful for my own family of accepting, loving human beings than I am right now. It constantly amazes me, truly, how those 'gays' everyone loves to talk about just seem to have a higher capacity for tolerance. I thought that the greatest thing people have learned from religion is that love conquers all. Hell, even Harry Potter taught us that.

Speaking of religion, we're not getting married in a church, so you can stop having a conniption. We're getting married at a hotel in Manhattan. It's the same one that held Quinn's book release party, and I think it's fitting. The ceremony will be officiated by two women, one from each of our faiths.

Oh, did I mention that I'm half-Jewish?

Still there?

Don't worry, I'm not really a practicing Jew, though you definitely shouldn't tell that to my father. I'm also a vegan, while we're here. Quinn's a vegetarian who eats bacon. She just can't bring herself to give it up, and I worry for her arteries. There's this breakfast recipe she likes to make: it's an egg scramble with truffle oil, red pepper flakes, parmesan and bacon, and she practically inhales it. She says that she learned to cook after she was kicked out (she kind of had to), and I feel sorry for you that you don't get to eat her food.

I've attached the recipe if you'd like to give it a go. She seems to enjoy it, so I imagine others must as well.

Regards,  
Rachel Berry

P.S. Don't reply. Don't do it.

P.P.S. I think it goes without saying that you're not invited to the wedding.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 8.  
Date: 2 October 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

I am officially a married woman. For some reason, I expected to feel different, but nothing's really changed save for the band on my finger and my surname. We debated over that for endless hours. The name 'Rachel Berry' is rather famous in certain circles, and it will always remain my professional name, but I've been worried about how that would affect our children. On paper, I want to be tied to Quinn, and I pushed for a double-barrelled surname even though she wanted to do away with the Fabray completely. As with most things, I came out on top.

You are now hearing from Mrs Rachel Barbra Berry-Fabray, who is married (officially and legally and wholeheartedly) to Mrs (soon to be Dr) Lucy Quinn Berry-Fabray. Any children we have will carry the surname as well.

For our honeymoon, we went to Austria first (she has a thing for Vienna, apparently), and then to India. We spent almost a month in that country, just travelling and enjoying each other and the food (OH MY GOD THE FOOD). It was kind of nice not to be recognised constantly, and we both even managed to get some work done. Quinn's second book is slated for release in November, and it's even better than her last. While 'Graceless' broke boundaries I didn't even know existed, this one is special in so many other ways. Her editor, Frances, is convinced that Quinn can't be real. Like, she's some kind of human substitute.

She's real. Every day, I get to reach out and touch her, just to be proven right.

And she's mine.

Now that we're back, I'm back into work. I'm workshopping a new show, and it opens a week after Quinn's book release. We've planned it, you see. We're taking the world by storm. And, really, we want to make sure all our career commitments are always in sync so, when we do start our family, we're both prepared for everything that would involve.

Is it weird to be terrified of being a parent? I've spoken to my own parents about it, and they say it is. My mother, Shelby, and I don't have the best relationship. She was a surrogate who didn't want to have a role in my life, and I don't think I've ever fully managed to get over the rejection (I can only imagine what Quinn feels). We talk sometimes, sure, but I don't think I'll be asking her about how to be a successful parent anytime soon. She's NOT a parent, and I just know she would lead me astray. How does one even measure the success of a parent anyway?

Clearly, I'm not ready for motherhood.

I've attached the previews for Quinn's book. It's amazing to see the way her writing and her characters have grown with her. She toyed with the idea of carrying Grace with her, but I think she wanted to give voice to something and someone new. She wants to put forward the message that it's never been about the person, but about the people, and she's written it in a way that shows that all different voices make the world ONE. 'Bigger Than My Body' just proves that Quinn is a genius.

I've also attached a few pictures from the wedding, and a couple from the honeymoon (no, not that kind, don't worry). Contrary to what people might think about gay weddings, it was pretty standard. We both wore white dresses. Brittany was her maid of honour, and Kurt was my best man. My fathers gave us away. It was a perfect day. It was an amazing day, and I'm convinced that she didn't even feel the absence of any of you.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not today.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 9.  
Date: 18 November 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

If we thought Quinn's first novel was a success; the response to this one has been out of this world. She went on _Good Morning America_ this morning, and I think this entire nation just fell in love with your daughter. She's so unassuming, you know, and she has this smile that just catches you off guard, drawing you in and holding onto you in a way that makes you think it's your idea to stay. She was dressed in her tailored dress pants and white blouse, with that red blazer that makes the birds sing. She looked beautiful (she always looks beautiful), and I'm still in awe.

There's just this way that her face lights up when she's talking about her work. She claims that the same thing happens to me, but I don't know if I can believe that. It's such a QUINN thing, but I'll believe her because I tend to listen when she says things.

My show debuts tonight and, despite how crazy busy Quinn has been the last few days, she's going to be front and centre. It's not as if she's been to countless rehearsals and almost every preview or anything like that (I hope you can sense my sarcasm). Anyway, she's still going to be there. With my fathers and our friends.

Maybe you'd like an update on them. If not, you're still going to get one. Santana and Brittany are getting married, by the way. Santana proposed because she claims that she wants to be happy and tied down before she starts her internship. Brittany's dance company is flourishing, and she does choreography for some truly notable names. Noah's band is making some headway, and he's still serial dating. We're convinced he'll settle down eventually - we're all still on the lookout for that elusive girl. And Kurt has been steadily dating one of my costars, Blaine, for a few weeks now. They're cute together.

I don't tend to get nervous about shows. Not even new ones. But this one has me a little twisted in knots. I don't know if it's off the back of Quinn's success, but I'm feeling a little added pressure. I know we're in two separate fields (for now, at least), but I don't want to be the less successful wife. Does that make me a bad person? It looks stupid when I read it back. It's just that Quinn and I push each other. It's the one constant in our relationship that will always keep things interesting, professionally and personally.

Anyway, I better head to the theatre. I'm headlining _Jane Austen Sings!_ , in case you were wondering. You should check it out if ever you're in New York. Not to toot my own horn (I've tried to put a cap on that as I get older), but it's a pretty spectacular show. It's already picking up Tony buzz.

I've attached the playbill, if you're interested. You should note that Quinn is actually credited as one of the producers. She even made script changes. Seriously. What can't she do?

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Maybe next time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 10.  
Date: 16 December 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

I've never actually seen a picture of you. Quinn doesn't keep any around, and I steer clear of her little box of keepsakes that's hidden under our bed because there are things that she likes to keep private. So, technically, I don't know what you look like. I mean, I suppose I must just a little (because I know Quinn's face better than I know my own and she must resemble you in some way), so I KNOW I saw you last night. You were in the audience, weren't you? You came. You watched the show. And, you were with your other daughter?

Wow.

That means you're actually reading these things.

Bigger wow.

I mean, of course I thought you were reading them but I couldn't really be sure, you know? It's been years, and you're still entertaining my crazy, incessant rambling. That's a feat in itself, I should tell you. Quinn has had to get creative in trying to get me to shut up (most of which involve feeding me.)

Anyway. Hi. I'm Rachel. I'm your daughter's wife. I'm a performer on Broadway. I'm an only child. I have two fathers.

So, you definitely know what I look like now? It's been confirmed that you know exactly who I am. Are you disappointed? It's the nose, isn't it?

Wow.

I've attached my favourite review for the show. It mentions Quinn!

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. As WOW as this all is, I don't think we're there yet.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 11.  
Date: 26 December 2019**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Happy holidays, Mrs Fabray!

I hope you're having a safe and pleasant holiday season. Quinn and I are spending it in New York with my parents and Noah. Santana, Brittany, Blaine and Kurt have all gone home, and New York feels both empty and full at the same time. We don't have much planned beyond spending time together as a family, though I am performing in Times Square on New Year's Eve. If you're one for watching the Ball Drop, then you're bound to see me. I just hope I don't freeze my little butt off.

Quinn is leaving on another book tour in the first week of the new year. With my Broadway commitments, we're going to be playing it by ear when we'll see each other. She hasn't even left yet, and I already miss her. Our place gets too quiet when she's not here. It's not even that she makes a lot of noise. Sometimes, the most you can get out of her is the steady tapping of keys on her laptop when she's in her office. But it still FEELS quiet when she's gone, and I've never been one to handle the silence all that well. Sometimes, Noah stays over to give me some human interaction, and I think Quinn handles the separation better knowing there's someone around, in case I need protecting.

Noah's a marshmallow, by the way, and I'm the one who usually does all the protecting.

Also, I think I've found the perfect girl for him, and I intend to introduce them on New Year's Eve. Fingers crossed that my match-making skills actually work.

I've attached our Christmas card. For a while, Quinn and I discussed the merits of having it be just the two of us, or just us and my parents. We decided to include our entire family. Our big, wonderful, GAY family. Hah. The guy in the back, yeah, that's the marshmallow (also known as the only straight person in the picture).

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Were you hoping for a Christmas miracle?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 12.  
Date: 6 May 2020**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

I know it's been a few months since my last email. Life has been... well, life. Quinn went on her tour, and I was hit by this intense separation-driven anxiety. I've been fine all the other times, but this one was different. I just missed her in a way that was almost dangerous. I started seeing my therapist again and Quinn had to cut her tour short. I feel guilty about that, but she dismisses my worries every time I bring it up. I come first, apparently. We're still working on trying to diagnose what the actual problem is, so I'll have to get back to you on that. All I know is that Quinn is home and I can see her and touch her and love her.

As a result, the anxiety has decreased somewhat.

Updates on everyone else. My parents are currently on a Caribbean cruise for their wedding anniversary. I think it's awesome that they still spoil each other all these decades later. I want that for myself and Quinn. I mean, in my eyes, she'll never age, but I want to grow old with her in a way that has our love growing with us. Santana and Brittany are making no plans to get married, and I think they're just enjoying being engaged. Quinn's convinced they're going to be engaged for at least a decade before they tie the knot. Kurt is thinking of branching into fashion. He'll stay on as my manager, of course, but he's found other interests, and I think it has a little something to do with Blaine's wardrobe. I don't think I've met anyone who owns that many bowties. Seriously.

And Noah.

Oh, Noah Puckerman.

Remember that girl I introduced him to? Her name is Meghan Speight (well, it was). The two of them definitely hit it off, went on a binge that ended up with them in Atlantic City, and they're now married. Can you believe it? Quinn can. She claims she knew from the moment they met that they were meant for so much more; for great things. She's a writer, apparently, and she just knows these things. When I asked her about our first meeting, she just smiled and reached for my phone. She brought up her contact and THAT picture. 'I've known all along.' The little shit has always been one page ahead.

I don't know about your marriage (maybe Mr Fabray is a better husband than he is a father), but I hope it's a good one. I hope you chose wisely, picking your husband over your daughter. I hope you're happy because, God, I am. Well, I'm trying to be.

I've attached pictures of the night of Noah and Meghan's ACTUAL wedding reception. The one we made them throw when they got back. How rude of them to get married without us. We're family.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Go, be happy instead.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 13.  
Date: 13 July 2020**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

We're going to London!

It's only for a week, but it's still a big deal. Quinn got invited to speak at Cambridge (can you believe it?) about the social implications of both her novels. She's been stressed out of her mind about it, and I'm taking a full week off of shows to go with her. We'll be there for our first anniversary, and we're turning it into a little trip of sorts.

Do people say the first year of marriage is supposed to be difficult? I remember mentioning that I didn't feel as if anything had changed, but I feel it now. It's kind of in everything and in nothing at all. My entire life is tied up in and over and with Quinn, and I don't exactly exist without or apart from her. For so long, I thought the idea of that would be terrifying, but it's okay. I've accepted and embraced it. We exist together and apart, but we CHOOSE to be together. I think the thought that she existed apart from me (and maybe wouldn't need me) fuelled some of my anxiety. I'm doing much better now. I'm working and I'm seeing my therapist and my friends, and Quinn hasn't gone anywhere. She's in bed beside me every single night, and I'm doing better.

So, Santana is officially a doctor. She's starting her internship at Mount Sinai on Monday, and we're all so proud of her. She put in all the hours (she's going to have to put in thousands more) and it's great to see that it's paying off. Quinn has another year, at least, before I get to call her Dr Fabray. Well, she'll be Dr Berry-Fabray now. Oh wow. Now, that sounds amazing. My wife is going to be a doctor!

I've attached the poster for Quinn's presentation. It's kind of a big deal, and she's right to be freaking out, but she's (soon to be Dr) Lucy Quinn Berry-Fabray. She can do anything and everything.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I hope you're still being happy instead.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 14.  
Date: 24 August 2020**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

One year down, and forever-minus-one to go. We survived the first year of marriage! I think I deserve a medal or something. That was... not what I was expecting. I think our careers make it that bit harder, but we did it. We did it!

I can't say much. It's my anniversary, after all, and we're celebrating in all those dirty ways that your churchgoers would baulk at!

I've attached a link to Quinn's talk at the university. Watch it soon. It'll expire by the end of the week (she's a hot commodity, apparently.) You should know that her brain is beautiful. It thinks in ways that makes my breath catch in my throat. It's hers, and she's mine.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not today, I'm afraid. There's a naked woman waiting for me in my bed.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 15.  
Date: 29 November 2020**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Quinn and I are doing that thing where we don't talk about the things we obviously need to. The publishers want her to do a series of talks around the country (the Cambridge one went so well, and they want to cash in), but she's resisting because she's worried about how I'll react to having her gone. We haven't been apart for a single night since she prematurely ended her last tour, and I don't want to be responsible for further hiccups in her career. So, we're not talking about it. Well, she's not letting me talk about it, I mean.

She's not going.

She'll go only if I'm with her.

We're at an impasse because my contract still has another six months on it. She wants to push her tour for those six months, and then we can go together, and I can work on my second album while we're travelling. I don't know if I want her to be making those kinds of sacrifices for me. I should be able to handle it, and I'll do what I can to convince her of it. I usually can.

I've attached a picture from our Thanksgiving dinner. Despite our home being basically vegetarian, none of our friends follows our lifestyle, and Quinn still prepared the turkey for them. Unethical bastards. Noah and Meghan are the ones NOT looking at the camera (I'm less mad because they're looking at each other).

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Definitely not today.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 16.  
Date: 22 December 2020**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Well, I was wrong. I couldn't handle it. At all. The epicness of my failure to keep a hold of my crippling anxiety would be amusing if I wasn't so disappointed in myself. I promised and reassured her that I could handle it until I was blue in the face and practically pushing her out the door. I handled it for all of five days before I had to skip a show from the sheer inability to perform. When I ducked out of dinner plans with Kurt and didn't reply to any messages from my parents, Quinn came home. We're in therapy together this time. We've both gone separately, but this is the first time we're discussing my separation anxiety together, with a healthcare professional present. I thought she would be slightly resistive to merely the idea of it, but she's all for it.

She's with me all the time now. I can reach out to touch her whenever I want. Right now, she's asleep on our bed, catching a nap after a long day of, essentially, doing nothing. She's been writing a lot lately, though, and she does that thing with her top lip she does when she's nervous a bit more now. I think she's working up to telling me something I'm probably not going to like. This is why we need therapy. Everyone should be in therapy.

I hope you're having a good holiday season.

I've attached our Christmas card. Look at our growing family! (Granted, the only addition is Meghan, but it's still something).

Kind regards  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I'm definitely not up for it.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 17.  
Date: 16 March 2021**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Remember that thing I told you Quinn wanted to tell me that I wasn't going to like. She told me. In fact, there are TWO things. One: she's been working hard on her third book, which touches on the darker sides of mental illness and depression. She was hesitant to talk to me about it because of my own recent episodes. Apparently, Quinn's cocktail of antidepressants works much better for her than mine does for me.

I haven't mentioned that, have I? Quinn's been in therapy since before I met her. She's been on antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication for just as long. There's a lot of it tied to her experiences with your family, and there's quite a bit to do with the accident. Do you know about that? Probably not. It happened in her senior year at Yale. Some guy (he'll remain nameless for all of eternity, if I can help it) ran a red light and hit Quinn's little bug on the driver's side. It was bad, Mrs Fabray. We almost lost her.

I almost lost her.

Sometimes, I like to pretend none of it even happened. If I try hard enough, I can convince myself I didn't get a phone call from New Haven telling me that my girlfriend was in an accident, was in a coma and was temporarily paralysed. It was terrifying, and I don't really remember much more than that. I just remember this endless, numbing pit of fear. It was so consuming and powerful, and I had myself convinced that, by the time I got to the hospital, she would be gone. Just like that, she would disappear, and I would never see her again.

I'm telling you about this because our therapist, Dr Monroe, forced us to talk about it during our session today. He thinks it's the crux of my anxiety. It's manifesting later in life, AFTER we've tied ourselves to each other in every way. Logically, I can see that she's happy and healthy and WALKING, but sometimes I just catch myself in a memory of her broken body lying in a hospital bed, battered and bruised. Sometimes, I'll remember the sound of the tears she cried when they told her she might never walk again.

So many things.

Oh, that second thing Quinn talked to me about is that she wants us to spend six months in Vienna after my show and after her little speaking tour. Apparently, there's some intricate writing course she wants to take there, and she'd like to do it before she graduates. Despite my apprehension on the entire move as a whole, I'm thinking of agreeing.

She never asks me for anything, Mrs Fabray. Nothing. Ever. Just my love. Always, just my love. Every day, without fail, she pulls me into her arms and whispers in my ear: 'Just love me.' I would give her the entire world if I could. I've never really been able to put into words just how much I love her, but I've tried with my music. To this day, I still don't think she believes me. Between the two of us, Dr Monroe is surprised that I'M the one with more of the issues. He's kind of a sick bastard, sometimes.

I've attached a link to the article about Quinn's accident. I wouldn't actually read it if I were you, but it's there if you're interested. Your daughter has survived so much, Mrs Fabray. She survived the loss of use of legs, and she persevered through relentless physical therapy while maintaining her position at the top of her class. THIS is why I sent you that first email when she WALKED to receive her degree. You have to know the wonder of a human being that your daughter is. You have to know that she is everything and so much more. She truly is.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Sorry. Today's not the day.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 18.  
Date: 27 October 2021**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

We're in Vienna!

I thought I would lead with that as an excuse for taking months to send my next email. We've had quite a whirlwind of life lately. I saw out my contract, won myself two Tonies (one individual and one ensemble) while I was at it, and Quinn and I went on her speaking tour. She was even able to preview her next book, which is creating quite a buzz. It'll be released while we're here in Vienna and, as soon as we get back state-side, she's going on her book tour, and I'll be going on my promotional tour. I've been recording my second album while we're here, and we have a release date set.

Look at us syncing up our careers again.

We've decided, though.

After Quinn is done with her tour, we're going to start really thinking about having a baby. I can't wait to be a mother WITH Quinn.

Vienna is pretty great, I'm not going to lie. It's beautiful and so full and vibrant. It's a place of art, and it's definitely the right place to be making music. I've been working with this producing couple, Artie and Tina Abrams, and I'm convinced we're making magic. Whenever Quinn isn't in class or in some library or writing under a tree, she's with us in the studio, just sitting and listening and learning and writing. You must know she's musically gifted (she always flushes bright red whenever I tease her about her Glee days), and she's a natural lyricist. Really, it's just like free consulting having her around. We're going to have to put her on the record or something.

Well.

It's a secret, so you can't tell anyone, but Quinn does feature on a few songs, though she's refusing to be credited as a singer. She will accept writer and producer, though. Apparently, she doesn't want the world to know she's a quadruple threat or whatever. She can do everything, and she doesn't want the rest of the world to get too jealous or something like that. Okay, SHE did not say any of that.

I think coming here has been good for us. I feel a bit more relaxed, and I don't have an incessant need to check up on her whereabouts whenever we're apart. It helps that there's no actual driving involved while we're here. I mean, it isn't as if Quinn has driven at all since the accident, but I appreciate that there are no cars involved at all. I feel as if I'm breathing easier, and even Quinn looks lighter. Of course, we miss our home, and we miss our friends and family, but we're going back. Of course we're going back.

I've attached so many things this time. There's a link to a video of my acceptance speech (guess who I thanked profusely - your daughter). There's a link to a video of my favourite part of Quinn's speech on the speaking tour (she talked about wolves and how, when they're travelling, they put the oldest the pack in front, so they set the pace and nobody gets left behind. She mentioned that the Alpha stays at the back, the first and last line of defence, and she talked about how there's beauty to be found in the way that wolves - creatures we rightly fear and yet look down on - have so much more about life and relationships figured out. They cherish their old and protect them when we, as human beings, have next to no patience for them. It's a wonderful piece. I recommend it.) There's also a link to the shortlisted novels for the National Book Award - guess who's on it. And there's a snippet of my new single which will be released on the tenth of next month.

You're hearing it here first, Mrs Fabray. Feel special.

It's called 'I Am Alive,' and a lot of it was inspired by my relationship with your daughter. I've grown up in a loving home with parents who have done nothing but give of themselves in all the ways they're capable of. I'm forever grateful for them, but I've never felt as safe as I do when I'm with Quinn. It's in her physical presence, and in her emotional being. She makes me feels safe, and I want the world to know.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I think maybe we're getting closer and closer.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 19.  
Date: 13 January 2022**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Even though, technically, we were supposed to be back in New York yesterday, we're still in Vienna. I don't want you to worry but Quinn's been in the hospital for a few days. She started feeling sick about a week ago, a cough and a slight fever. It's happened before, but it's never been this serious. Because of the accident, she's been at risk of developing lung infections, particularly when it gets cold. Austrian winters are vicious, apparently. She has pneumonia, and they're talking about possibly draining her left lung. She doesn't want another chest tube, but I'm willing to go with the doctor's recommendation. My parents are even threatening to fly out here if she doesn't listen. I just want her to get well enough so we can go home, and then we can deal with the implications of this bout in the hospital with her actual doctors. They're more familiar with her case.

But, of course, stubborn as always, your daughter.

She's asleep right now, looking all sorts of cute in her hospital bed. I've attached a picture to prove that she is, in fact, okay. Which, in Quinn's terms, means that she's in pain and she's refusing to show it. It's the thanks she gets for attempting to tackle the topic of mental illness, apparently. Did she always complain this much? It doesn't even matter that she won another National Book Award, which is a Ceremony we ended up missing.

AND she won a Booker Prize.

On that note, her book is out. The book release party is going to be next month, but the publishers wanted it out before Valentine's Day. My album is coming out next Friday, which is a little terrifying. The singles I've released so far are doing well, so I hope the world likes the complete product. Quinn seems to like it, and she's my fairest critic. She's never been afraid to tell me exactly what she thinks, and I think that goes a long way towards maintaining both our professional and personal relationships. You have a true daughter, Mrs Fabray, real and true.

I've also attached a link to purchase her book, if you feel so inclined. It's a good one. It's probably her best work, if you ask me. I'll be singing her praises from the rooftops.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I think it's best you not reply.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 20.  
Date: 12 June 2022**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

The good news is that we managed to avoid the chest tube in Vienna, but they did drain her lung when we arrived State side. Her release party was postponed, and so was her book tour. I went on my promotional tour, and this record is outselling my debut in heaps. It's actually a little insane. I was worried about that, and I was also worried about how I would fare without her. I really do think that going to Vienna helped. We can be apart for days at a time now. I don't particularly like it, but I'm not devolving.

When she got better, I came home for the release party, and now we're on the road again. Kurt and Quinn's agent, Marcus, worked hard to sync our tours, and we're always in the same state, if not in the same cities. It's better than nothing, because I get to see her a lot more. I'm actually writing this because, right now, Quinn and I are in Columbus. She has a signing at the Barnes & Noble tonight, and we're getting ready to head there now. Afterwards, we're having dinner at this restaurant that she likes, though I can't remember her ever talking to me about Columbus. It just goes to show that you can still learn new things about your spouse so many years later.

I get the feeling she likes it here. It's like home without it actually being home, I think. I wouldn't even try to describe that feeling, but I do know Ohio still holds a special - if conflicted - place in her heart.

So, I may or may not have done a thing. I had Quinn sign a copy of her book for an old friend of mine, Evelyn. You. I'm leaving it at the Barnes & Noble, and I've attached a slip to this email. Just present it to them, and they'll hand it over. I know it's not much. It's nothing, really, but I thought you might like it. The book is brilliant. I've read everything Quinn has ever written, and this has to be her finest writing. There's such a truth to it that even the harshest critics can't deny. She writes through her own struggle in a way that feels authentic. She carries my voice through her words, and this story is the culmination of every hardship she's faced, and how she's conquered. My wife is dynamite. She's made of the strongest stuff.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I'll just imagine your 'Thank you.'

P.P.S You're welcome, by the way.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 21.  
Date: 15 June 2022**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

So, Quinn took me to Lima. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and we took a car from Columbus to Lima. It was two hours of watching my wife grow fidgety and small. She kind of curled in on herself the closer we got, and I was tempted to have us turn around, but I stand by the idea that she needed it. She needed the closure.

Lima is a small place. I can see why she hates it. She took me to her old high school, and she told me all about how she ruled it with an iron glare. As Head Cheerleader, it was almost expected of her, and the shame in her eyes was palpable. She's convinced that she and I wouldn't have got along back then, and I'm inclined to agree with her. I believe in fate and destiny and all that, so I still think things might have worked out in the end, but I'm glad that we did meet when we did. She was more sure of herself and of who she wanted to be, and I think that kind of thing can go a long way towards maintaining healthy relationships, particularly of the gay variety because everything else is already difficult enough.

What I really want to tell you is that we drove past your house. I don't know what I imagined Quinn's childhood home would look like, but it wasn't that. Firstly, it's gigantic, but it just feels cold. I don't know what that means, and I'm sorry if that's insulting but there was just no warmth to be found there. And, that's only from the outside. I can only imagine what it feels like on the inside. I'm sorry, Mrs Fabray. I truly am.

We didn't stop. Instead, we went to a place called the Lima Bean for some coffee, and we were both immediately recognised. Maybe you heard that we were in town, I don't know. She told me about this restaurant called Breadsticks, which is one of Brittany's favourites, apparently. She takes Santana there whenever they visit her family. They LOVE the breadsticks, which isn't the most unbelievable thing I've heard about those two.

I'm glad we went, sure, but I honestly couldn't wait to leave. There's just something so stifling and oppressive about it. I don't want that for Quinn. I never want that for her, and I'm so glad she was able to get out. Maybe, just maybe, you need to get out as well.

I've attached a picture we took of the two of us in Quinn's high school choir room in front of her Sectionals trophy for Glee. See those smiles? Sophomore Quinn and my Quinn? They match.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not this time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 22.  
Date: 16 September 2022**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

There's something going on with Quinn. Now that we're back home and she's graduated (oh my God, my wife is a DOCTOR), she's restless. We both know what this year is supposed to hold for us, but I get the feeling she's searching for something, anything, to postpone it. We're supposed to be planning for our baby, but she's constantly on the phone with Marcus. There's talk of making 'Graceless' into a movie, and they're looking to hire Quinn to write the screenplay. I'm not sure how I feel about her possibly shopping for more projects instead of having this conversation with me.

I get that she's scared. I'm scared too. She might not have had the best example of parenting, but I also haven't had a mother. We're the blind leading the blind here, but I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. I want a family with Quinn, and we're going to have to meet each other halfway if we're ever going to make this work. Has she always been this stubborn?

I'll keep you updated on that progress. Maybe you'd like to hear about everyone else. My parents are thinking of moving to New York. Well, one of them is. The other is ready to retire in Florida because he's convinced 'his work is done' when it comes to raising me. Apparently, I've made my first million, so I'm good to go. They're idiots, really. It'd be nice to have them here, though. Especially if we're planning on giving them a bunch of grandchildren. It'll be free babysitting.

Santana's doing well. She's constantly busy and always exhausted, but she's enjoying her work. I now know TWO doctors. Brittany's doing well, as well. She was on _Dancing With the Stars_. Do you watch that show? She came third with her partner, Frankie Muniz. There's always next year. Kurt's fashion line is going well. Quinn and I are wearing exclusively only him this entire Awards' season. We're supporting our own. Don't tell anyone but Blaine bought a ring. He's planning on proposing on Valentine's Day. Quinn rolled her eyes when I told her, but she's happy for them. Noah and Meghan are talking about moving to Los Angeles, which in hindsight, might actually work for all of us. If Quinn's movie gets made, then she'll probably have to be there, and there have been quite a few offers for me to do some TV work. Seeing as I'm kind of free at the moment - my national tour starts in May next year - I could probably fit in a few things. I'm working on my EGOT, you know?

Maybe this year isn't the year for a baby. We both have to be sure and ready before we bring a life into this world.

I've attached a link to a video of the last show of my promotional tour. Quinn came on stage with me and we sang my latest single, 'She's the One,' together. It was magical, and now the entire world knows my super talented wife can ALSO sing. Am I a lucky woman or what?

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Sorry.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 23.  
Date: 18 November 2022**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

We talked about it. After the offer for the movie rights to 'Graceless' officially came in and she was asked to write the screenplay, the decision was easy. We're headed to Los Angeles, and I'm headed for the small screen. Kurt's lined up some cameos and guest appearances on all our favourite shows. I'll do that while we plan for my upcoming live show. It's a summer tour, which should bring out all the music-lovers. Kurt's trying to get me to do a few shows abroad, which I'm still undecided about. Quinn and I are JUST getting used to the separation.

I'm not dismissing it, but I'm still apprehensive. We'll see how the American leg goes.

Noah and Meghan are already over there, and we've all decided to live together in a house in Silver Lake. We're only renting, though Quinn has been toying with the idea of investing in property. If she's so inclined, we can do that in New York. Where we live. Where we're going to raise our family. The second I said that, she sobered up and agreed. Apparently, our next project is to find a new place to live with a lot more space for the many children that we don't have. I'm just so glad we can afford it.

I'm also planning on working on some more music while I'm over there. If I can get most of the work done for my third album, maybe I can fit in a Broadway show after the tour and before babies. Wow. Being a working woman isn't easy. I can't even imagine what it's going to be like to be a working mother. See, these are things I can't exactly ask my own mother.

I've attached a picture of the house in LA. The next time I email, I hope we're all settled in. Take care.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not today.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 24.  
Date: 15 April 2023**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Greetings from sunny LA!

I have such a tan, I barely even recognise myself anymore. Of course, Quinn's skin just isn't made for the sun, and she ends up pink and red more often than not. She's plenty busy though, working hard with the directors and producers and other writers to put together the movie of her dreams. They're smart to have her working on 'Graceless' because it's her vision and she knows what it's supposed to look like. I'm worried they'll keep her around for longer because of it, but things seem to be moving quickly. She's almost done with the screenplay, and I just wrapped on my scenes on _American Horror Story_. Do you watch that show? I didn't used to, but then Quinn and Sarah Paulson got me hooked. I can barely get to sleep after an episode, but its always such an experience. That Ryan Murphy really knows what he's doing.

I also had a bit of a story arc on _Grey's Anatomy_. Quinn mentioned in passing, years ago, that you're a fan of that show. I hope you won't mind too much that I'll be gracing your screen. I will tell you this, though: Ellen Pompeo is every bit as wonderful as you think she is.

Noah and Meghan are doing well. Noah's band is making headway and they're even recording an EP. I've agreed to feature for them, which is exciting. Noah and I haven't sung together since our undergrad days. He's even got Quinn writing lyrics for him. Gosh, it's really who you know in this business, isn't it? Meghan's finding work as well, which means that LA is much more lucrative for them than New York. I'm worried they won't be coming back with us. Quinn says not to worry about it. If they don't come back with us when we go back; they will eventually. Apparently, WE are their home, and that makes all the difference.

As far as looking into property in New York, I'm torn. I want our kids to have a backyard, but I also want to live in the city. My parents, if they do end up moving to New York, are looking into Greenwich Village, which is just ironic, really. I think I would be happy with a place in Brooklyn Heights. Quinn's looking BIG and searching in places like Tribeca, Gramercy and NoHo. She wants this to be IT, you know? She wants us to have a place where we grow our family; a place where we stay for decades and decades. It's a big decision, particularly when there are no babies to speak of. We have to look into schools and safety and all those scary, adult things.

I've attached a link to an article that talks about all the various neighbourhoods we're considering. Right now, we're living in Murray Hill, and I think Quinn wants to get away from the postgrad students and nightlife. I also think she wants to go back to school. Maybe become a post-doc. I know her Columbia professors have been trying to get her to come back and teach. I think the only thing better than Dr Berry-Fabray is Professor Berry-Fabray. Why did you have to have such an over-achieving daughter?

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. It's not yet time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 25.  
Date: 19 June 2023**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

We found it!

Well, Quinn found it, but we found our new home. She's currently in New York, looking at the place and finalising the deal, and I'm here in North Carolina on tour. We have a house. Well, a loft, really. Quinn says it reminds her of Richard Castle's loft in _Castle_ , which is a show I've never seen. Still, we have a home. She's going to start organising for the decorators to get in there and the installers to put in a studio for me, so I'll be able to work from home, if needs be. The place, itself, is really breaking our budget. Like, REALLY. I think I'm definitely going to have to go on that World Tour to afford it. Hah.

I'm excited, though. I suddenly can't wait until we're both back home and we can just settle. I want a baby, dammit.

'Graceless' has been given the green light, and Quinn is officially a producer on the film. She's flying back to LA once the place is ours, and who knows how long the rest is going to take. They're casting now, and they're trying to get all the filming done before the end of the year. It's a push, really, and they're ambitious to try. I hope they do manage it, though, because I would really like to have my wife back. I miss her. I miss just living with her in our home that's just ours. I miss waking up and going to sleep with her. I miss the domesticity of being married to Quinn. I miss HER.

Okay, I think I'm going to go call her.

I've attached the final listing of our new place. It has a guest room, Mrs Fabray. Just putting it out there.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Maybe we can revisit this when Quinn and I are settled in New York.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 26.  
Date: 30 August 2023**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Once more, greetings from LA!

I don't know if you heard the news or not, but our return to New York has been postponed until the end of filming because, well, I was cast in a movie. In Quinn's movie. In 'Graceless.' As Grace. They held an open casting and brought the list down to three potential newcomers, and I made the unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on how you look at it) mistake of visiting Quinn at the production offices. Long story short, I made an impression, and then Quinn said, 'I wrote it with you in mind.'

OH MY GOD.

It's my first movie. This is terrifying. I'm terrified.

I go into movie bootcamp after my promotional World Tour dates, and Quinn is still working on the casting of all the other characters. I can fit in London, Paris, Rome, Barcelona and Tokyo before I have to be back. In that time, I have to learn lines and work with a vocal coach to adjust my accent. It's all so exciting and deeply scary. I'm not sure what to expect, really, and I just hope that I'll have seasoned actors all around me. I'm a little old, I think, but I can pass for a college student, apparently. Quinn says it's my height, which earned her a hard punch to the arm.

Also, Quinn and I weren't together for our anniversary. It's the first one we've ever missed (including the ones when we were just dating), and I'm not happy about it at all. She promises to make up for it, and I'm just hoping this isn't the start of things to come. I don't want us to become one of those couples. I actually like spending time with my wife, you know? She's kind of pretty to look at.

I've attached my World Tour schedule. It's overwhelming, and it still amazes me that it's actually happening.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not yet.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 27.  
Date: 2 September 2023**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Oh my God. Oh my God. Sandra Bullock is playing my MOTHER! Oh my God. Quinn just called to tell me. I'm hyperventilating and I'm supposed to go on stage in half an hour. This is my life. Oh my God, this is actually my life.

Greetings from Barcelona, by the way.

I've attached a picture of the crowds from my hotel room. I'm famous in Spain!

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Let's wait until I'm back in the States and reevaluate.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 28.  
Date: 2 October 2023**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Today was my first day on set. Well, on the movie lot. We did a kind of meet-and-greet and then a full table read. Did I mention that the screenplay is beautiful? Anything Quinn touches is pure gold, really. It's not even fair how talented she is. I'm just glad that she's here with me, you know. Even though we're technically NOT here together (she's a writer/producer and I'm an actor), it's nice knowing she's around. We're both new to this type of work, and I'm going to need all the help I can get.

We're doing a lot of the shooting here in LA before we go on location to Vancouver. I don't think I fully understood just how big an operation it is to put together a movie. This particular one is coming together quickly. According to my schedule (which is immense, seeing as my character is in nearly every single scene), I have rehearsals this entire week while they shoot location shots and larger, crowded scenes. We have ninety days of shooting to get as much done as possible, and hope that no reshoots are required.

Our director, Anna Raffoul, has a clear plan and vision, and Quinn trusts her enough to get us there. I trust Quinn's judgment. I mean, I'm currently in a movie with Sandra Bullock, Josh Duhamel, Adam Brody, Nina Dobrev and a blonde Brittany Snow. I'm definitely not complaining. Santana and Brittany are both going CRAZY with jealousy. I'm a married woman, Mrs Fabray. I love my wife dearly, but there are just some truly beautiful women in this world. Does that make you uncomfortable to hear? Sorry not sorry.

Anyway, Quinn's just got home. We're making dinner together (she's been wishing for lasagna, and having her ask for anything specific to eat is a near-miracle). Did you know what she struggled with purging in high school? Sometimes, Mrs Fabray, I wonder if you ever knew your daughter at all.

I've attached our first cast picture. See there? That's Brittany Snow's arm around my shoulders. I have always been a sucker for blondes.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Disclaimer. (Hey, I haven't used that one in a while.)

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 29.  
Date: 1 January 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Happy New Year!

I know it's been a while, but I've been shooting a movie and winning myself an Emmy! Hah. I knew _American Horror Story_ would be the one to do it for me. I practically tripped over myself getting to the stage. Quinn actually had to pinch me. The EGOT is well and truly almost here!

We're all good over here. I'm currently on a week-long break, and then I have two more weeks of shooting before we wrap. It's been going well, and I'm really enjoying this entire process. It's so different to everything else I've done, and I love being a student of art. Quinn has slipped into her role quite well, speaking up when appropriate and easily taking direction. She's soaking it all up, and you can practically see the cogwheels in her head turning.

My parents visited the set a few weeks ago, and they both went a little fangirl over Sandra Bullock. She's honestly as cool as you think she is. Maybe even cooler than that, really. She's really helped me find my footing in this movie, and I'll forever be grateful for her guidance. With everything on schedule, the movie is slated for release in September. I've already been approached regarding using one of my songs on the soundtrack, though Quinn and I have actually written an entirely new song for the film. We're planning on performing it for Anna when we get back to LA to see how she feels about it.

Oh, we're in New York now, and this is the first week we're actually spending in our new home. We've spent hours unpacking and moving things around and christening all the rooms. It's nice, just being able to unplug and relax. I kind of don't want to leave. Santana, Brittany, Kurt and Blaine have attempted to monopolise our time, but Quinn and I are playing hardball. I just want a little couple time, even if Kurt demands my attention as his best (wo)man. I don't miss that at all. Wedding planning is exhausting. I'm never doing it again. I did it once and once is all I need. I don't even care if Quinn decides, one day, she wants to renew our vows. Never again. She can do it on her own.

I've attached our Christmas card. This year, I managed to convince Quinn to wear a reindeer sweater. She broke out in hives shortly after the picture was taken. I've also attached a link to the video of my acceptance speech. I'm a crying mess, but I always manage to thank the most important person: Quinn Quinn Quinn.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not this time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 30.  
Date: 18 January 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Awards' season is upon us. Quinn and I are, once again, wearing 'Kurt Hummel.' I'm, once again, nominated for three Grammys, though I don't exactly qualify as a 'New Artist' anymore. Quinn, Artie and Tina are all nominated for producing my album, and Quinn and I are also nominated for writing the potential Song of the Year, my ballad 'She's the One.'

We've just wrapped on the movie, but they have enough footage for a teaser trailer that they intend to play throughout this Awards' season to create the right kind of buzz. I guess it will really help if Quinn and I actually win something. Watch this space, and wish us luck.

I've attached a few sketches of some of the dresses we'll be wearing. I like the way Quinn looks in green.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I think we're getting there.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 31.  
Date: 29 January 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

WE WON! OH MY GOD, WE WON!

Did you see it? Were you watching? Did you see how sexy badass your daughter is? Did you hear how well she spoke? You can't tell, really, but, behind my crazy eyes, all I wanted to do was cartwheels across the stage and scream out that 'THAT'S MY WIFE!'

We're totally one of those couples that wins things now.

I've attached a million links to the millions of videos of our acceptances. You have to watch the one where Artie nearly rolls right over the edge of the stage in his excitement. It's only funny because it didn't happen.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Definitely not tonight. We're celebrating!

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 32.  
Date: 3 March 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

I told myself I wouldn't be the one to bring it up. I told myself I would let her come to me when she was ready and, honestly, I was anticipating having to wait months or even years, but Quinn and I finally had the TALK. The baby talk. It was after Valentine's Day, and after she got back from LA from her post-production work on the movie. She ended up visiting Santana at work, and I heard from San that Quinn spent an obscene amount of time in the Paediatric Ward.

She's ready, Mrs Fabray.

She's ready for our family.

Until now, we haven't really discussed which one of us would carry our first child. It was just a given that we would both be 'free,' as it were. Technically, I'm not as free as she is, with the success of the movie ready to tide me over. Broadway is calling again, and I'm toying with the idea of going back to the stage while I still can. Theatre is a bit more demanding of my time, and I can fit in another show before any baby arrives. Which is why Quinn will be carrying Berry-Fabray Baby Number One.

We considered asking Noah to be our sperm donor but, ultimately, decided against it. We're going with a stranger. A perfect blend of both of us (brown hair and hazel eyes), so we can maintain the same donor for when it's my turn. If our children aren't going to be able to share our DNA, they should at least share SOME, you know. He's smart (LLB from Yale) with good bone structure and kind eyes. He's slightly tan (yay), and I'm convinced he and Quinn are going to make beautiful babies.

We're going to be parents.

Well, we need to get Quinn pregnant first, and then get through a successful pregnancy, and then we're going to be parents.

I think she's feeling the loss a bit more these days. With the idea of becoming a parent of her own; she's thinking about the parents she no longer has. I try to be all she needs. My parents, our friends, we try to be all she needs, but I sometimes get the feeling that there's a hole in her heart that we would never be able to fill. Our shapes just don't fit. I know I've talked about it a lot, but do you actually realise how much you've affected her? Do you have any idea how she hurts? Do you think about that? Do you think about the lost teenager trying to find her way in a world where her parents no longer want her? Because I think about it a lot. Maybe too much, really.

Quinn Berry-Fabray is my entire life. She is everything and more. I honestly didn't know that love like this could exist, but it does. I have it for a wonderful, beautiful woman, and so many people in this world think our love is wrong. If that's so, then I never want to be right. I will never accept that this magical thing that we have is wrong. It can't be. Love - LOVE - like this, pure and true, can never be wrong.

I could probably attach an assortment of pamphlets from the ACLU, but I've actually attached a short video clip of the moment Quinn received her doctorate. She almost tripped on her way to the stage, and she recovered like such a professional, shrugging it off and offering one of those dangerous half-smiles. It was such a Quinn thing to do, and I thought you might like to see it. My wife is a doctor. A DOCTOR!

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I'm too excited to consider it.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 33.  
Date: 3 June 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Okay, so it took us two tries, but we're pregnant. We're having a baby! Quinn is 10 weeks along now, so, even though I'm jumping the gun a little (we gave ourselves until 12 weeks to start telling everyone), I'm just too excited. I don't think I can wait for January to get here. I want our baby here. Now.

The morning sickness has been especially awful to her, and she's craving bacon like it's going out of fashion. She's been writing again, which is good. Marcus and her publishers want to get a book out just after the movie's release, which is kind of pushing it, if you ask me. September is right around the corner. I'm sure it'll still happen this year though, with the way her fingers are moving over the keys.

My new show is opening next week. The previews have been going really well, and we've got some good reviews. I'm just glad to know I haven't been 'shunned' or whatever by expanding into Hollywood. I'm trying to convince Quinn to write a Broadway play, so we'll see how that goes. She's quite a stubborn one, you know? You should come see this show as well. It'd be nice to look out into the audience see a sort-of familiar face. I'll even reserve you a ticket, if you'd like. Under Evelyn. It'll be a standing ticket. You can come whenever you want, and the ticket booth will have it waiting for you. Maybe you'll even catch sight of Quinn at a show. Though, I must ask you not to interact with her. She won't handle it well. At all.

Sometimes, I wonder what her reaction will be if she ever finds out what we've been up to. Well, what I'VE been up to. You can feign innocence if ever we get caught out. Do you think she'll hate me if she finds these emails? I worry about that. I worry she'll feel as if I've betrayed her, but this is just another way in which I'm showing her just how much I love her. Whatever has happened in the past and as much as she tries, she is a part of you and you are a part of her. That's mothers and daughters, and I sometimes can't stand the thought that our baby will never know his or her grandmother.

Did you hear? You're going to be a grandmother. I assume your other daughter has children, so this won't be your first, but I hope you're still excited. I know I am. I've actually attached the picture I took of her with the pregnancy test. Her eyes are closed, I know, but I thought you might like to see that expression on her face. That complete calm, serenity, satisfaction. It's as if she knows that this family we're growing is exactly where she's meant to be. She is beautiful, Mrs Fabray, and she's glowing and happy, and I've honestly never been more attracted to my wife than I am right now. Sorry not sorry. It's the truth.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. As exciting as this moment is, it's not yet time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 34.  
Date: 8 August 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

We're slowly coming along. Quinn isn't exactly enjoying pregnancy but she wears it well. She's been flying back and forth from LA for the last month as the movie reaches completion. They're using our song in the trailer, which is wonderful. Shazam has been going crazy with matches since the trailer was released. 'Graceless' is an absolute written masterpiece, and I have no doubt the visual of it will match it.

So, my parents are living in New York now. It's both a blessing and not. I get to see them more, which is nice, but they also get to see me more, which isn't as nice. I think I'm just so used to being a full adult, doing whatever I want whenever I want, and now I have parents just around the corner and it's been quite the adjustment. Of course, Quinn finds it all very hilarious. She laughs and cries a lot, her hormones and emotions completely haywire. I'M not allowed to laugh because she keeps panicking about how her body is changing and she doesn't know if she'll ever get it back. I still find her insanely beautiful. I always have and I always will.

We're having a girl, by the way. I've attached a sonogram of our precious bundle. We have to get started on the nursery and picking names and we have to register. There's so much to do in preparation for her arrival. But, first, I go on a press tour for the movie (which gives my understudy some time on stage), and it's still up in the air whether Quinn will be coming with me. I guess having my parents around will give me some piece of mind if she does stay. We'll see.

We're even going to London for the premiere. This is the most exciting thing. This is turning into the best year ever.

Isn't our baby cute? (Even if she just looks like a jelly baby, right now.)

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. One day soon.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 35.  
Date: 24 September 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

The movie is out! It's finally out worldwide, and its opening weekend has been through the roof. People are going to the movies. People are going to see OUR movie. It's amazing. Have you seen it? Are you going to see it? Tell your friends. Tell everyone.

I've watched it four times already and I cry every time. Every single time. In all different places. It doesn't even matter that it's me who's acting. The story is just beautiful. The music. Everything. It's art, Mrs Fabray. It's pure perfection. I'm not even being biased.

The reviews are in. Rotten Tomatoes gave it a 96%. And, all the success of the movie is boosting Quinn's book sales.

I feel as if I'm floating.

I've attached a link to the BEST review I've found. Read it, like it. They mention Quinn. Quinn. Your daughter, who is on top the world right now. Her new book (which is an examination into her own decision-making regarding wanting to become a parent when she has little to go on) is coming out next month, and it's wildly anticipated. She's planning on foregoing the book tour, but the publishers are still rolling out with it. Lucy Quinn is taking the world by storm. MY WIFE!

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. We're celebrating (sans alcohol because I'm supporting my very pregnant wife, albeit begrudgingly).

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 36.  
Date: 13 November 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

We officially have a birthing plan. It's been pretty difficult to find the time to sit down and iron out all the details. With the success of the movie, my show still running and Quinn's upcoming book release (she finished her novel in four months - she's a machine); we just haven't had the time. Baby Berry-Fabray is doing well. She's healthy and growing as she should. We're about to spend our last Christmas without our baby, and it's really just shifted everything into perspective. We're about to become parents.

Also, because everything about Kurt and Blaine is, well, Klaine (that's our name for them, and we use it to describe things such as Valentine's Day proposals and matching sweater vests); our two favourite men are having a Christmas wedding. Of course, Quinn and I tried to make them see reason - think of the children - but they're going through with it. It's going to be in Blaine's home state of Vermont and, because Quinn is so pregnant, there won't be any flying for us, which means either driving or taking the train.

Let's just say she's not looking forward to it, but she'll suck it up and smile widely because these are our friends and we love them and we would do anything for them. Even if she has to pee every five minutes. We haven't yet decided on a name but she's being referred to as Baby B-F by almost everyone. We have a list, of course. Would you like to hear them? There's Emma, Charlotte, Mila, Lily, Madison and Olivia. What do you think? We want her to have a good, strong name. We don't doubt for a second that our daughter isn't going to go through quite a bit. She has two mothers who are famous. Even just one of those things is difficult enough, and Quinn and I worry if we'll be able to protect her the way she deserves.

Quinn reads to her every night. It's a bit of a routine for us now as we get closer and closer to her arrival date. She tires easily these days, so she's in bed by nine-thirty the latest, and she always reads to Baby B-F. It can be anything - even the financial news - but she makes sure that our baby hears her voice. And then I sing us all to sleep. This is the life we get to have. This is the life we get to live, and it is everything. She and THEY are everything.

I've attached a picture of Quinn in the nursery. She didn't want it to be pink. She doesn't want to force our daughter into social norms, so we went with a backdrop of white with red and gold accents. Our two favourite colours. (Mine is really yellow, but we were not going to go with that. Let's be serious). Also, I've attached a link to purchase Quinn's new book. It's a beautiful work, but I think it might be difficult for you to read. The names are different and she's created an entirely new world to channel what she's trying to say, but the truth is still there. She's writing about her own experiences, and I think you're bound to learn more about your daughter and how she views you far more than you care to. Just, be prepared.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Any day now.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 37.  
Date: 26 December 2024**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

This isn't a long one, but I just wanted to introduce you to Mr and Mr Anderson-Hummel. I've attached a few pictures of the ceremony and reception. Three couples down; just Santana and Brittany left to go.

Happy holidays, Mrs Fabray. I hope you're having a good one!

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. We're getting closer and closer.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 38.  
Date: 24 January 2025**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

Baby B-F is officially one day overdue.

This Awards' season is going to be something special, Anna says. With the Critics' Choice, the Golden Globes and the SAG Awards all under our belt (we won, we won, we won), Anna's convinced the BIG one is OURS. See, Quinn and I are both nominated for Academy Awards (The Oscars) for Writing (Adapted Screenplay) and Actress in a Leading Role respectively. We're also up for Best Picture, Actress in a Supporting Role [Sandra], Directing [holy shit, Anna!], and Music (Original Song).

The buzz is intense, and Baby B-F just doesn't feel like joining us in all this excitement. Quinn spends all her time at home, on the couch or at her desk. Her back aches and she has to pee every twenty-two minutes even though nothing comes out, sometimes. Our family and friends have to visit us here or they'd never see Quinn. She's not up for going anywhere and the paparazzi are getting relentless. We're ready though. The bags are packed and the car is fuelled. When I'm at the theatre, my parents are here with her, ready and waiting. Baby B-F is taking her sweet time. Was Quinn like that? My parents say I couldn't wait to join the world (I was two weeks early, apparently).

I'll probably be a new mother the next time I write. We're planning to induce if she stays in for more than a week. I hope it doesn't come to that.

I've attached a link to the Oscar Nominees page. Look at us. Look at your daughter.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I'm about to become a mother. Now definitely isn't the time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 39.  
Date: 31 January 2025**

Dear Mrs Fabray,

She's here.

She's finally here.

Charlotte Lily Berry-Fabray was born at 22h47 on 28th January 2025, weighing in at nine pounds and six ounces. She is healthy and beautiful and bright. She is joy and love and sheer perfection. She is everything, Mrs Fabray. Judy. Do you mind if I call you Judy? It just feels as if we've moved into this entirely new world where I'm a mother. I have a daughter. Quinn has a daughter. We have a daughter, and you are now Judy.

I was scared of the birth. I thought I wouldn't be enough. I thought Quinn would need or want someone else; something more, but she was wonderful. She was perfect. I've never understood it when people say childbirth is beautiful, but I get it now. It truly is. This life we've created has just joined the world, and my amazing, gorgeous wife did that. She made it happen, and she will forever be the person who has given me EVERYTHING.

I've attached two pictures for you. The first is Charlotte napping in the nursery (she spends nights in a bassinet in our bedroom for now), and the second is an exhausted Quinn holding our baby after her first feeding. Our baby, Judy. Your granddaughter. Isn't she precious? Aren't they both?

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Almost. I can feel it.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 40.  
Date: 17 ****February 2025**

Dear Judy,

Can we put her back? I want to put her back where we can't hear her crying. Please. Just for a little while. I just want some sleep. I NEED sleep. I performed my last show last night, and I am officially done. I'm free to be a mother and wife to a colicky baby and an exhausted woman respectively. They really tire each other out. They both sleep a lot, which is good. But, when they're not sleeping, it's utter chaos. Charlotte is fussy, and I'm still a little panicky about how to handle her. Quinn has taken to it much easier, and I have to admit I'm a little jealous. I'm supposed to be taking care of them. Quinn says I'll learn, so I'm learning.

Right now, though, both my girls are asleep, so I'm going to use the opportunity to get some shuteye myself. I've attached a quick picture of the slumbering duo. I almost always burst at the cuteness of when Charlotte falls asleep on Quinn's chest. It's almost too much. Look at them.

Goodnight.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I wished Quinn a happy birthday for you, just by the way.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 41.  
Date: 28 ****February 2025**

Dear Judy,

She's precious. She's also officially one month old. She's sleeping much better. My parents have been helping us stay on top of everything. Quinn is sort of back to normal, but her therapist told me to watch out for the signs of postpartum depression because Quinn might be susceptible to it. She seems present enough, if only a bit jaded. She's exhausted more often than not, and I reason that's to do with the leech that is Charlotte Lily.

Charlotte also has quite the set of lungs, which always has Quinn saying, 'Yip, she's definitely your child,' and it make me so irrationally happy that I don't even know what to do with myself half the time. Sometimes, I just find myself staring at Charlotte; just marvelling at the sheer size and beauty of her. My parents are convinced she's going to be a heartbreaker when she's older, and all I'm thinking is that she's already a heartbreaker. I mean, she's already stolen mine.

Quinn still reads to her without fail, and I sing. This is what we do. This is how we mother. I've attached a sound clip of your granddaughter's endless wailing. It's really horribly beautiful. This is when I feel vindicated to say that Charlotte is Quinn's daughter. Hah.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I'm definitely not getting enough sleep for this.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 42.  
Date: 5 March** **2025**

Dear Judy,

The EGOT has landed.

I repeat, the EGOT has landed.

I am so happy I've been crying non-stop for HOURS. We won, Judy. We won. Quinn won, I won, Anna won, the film WON. I can't even believe it. It's a dream. It's only March and, already, this has been the best year of my entire life.

It hasn't always been easy, you know? Having gay fathers and a dream of Broadway don't really bode well for girls from sleepy, little towns. I was bullied a lot, and there are many times when I considered that it would just be so much easier to give it all up and become an accountant. There's considerably less scrutiny in that line of work, I'll say. But I couldn't. It's like my calling. Quinn says that we're doing what we were born to do, and she says it so strongly that even the non-believers would take her word for it. So, I persevered. I stuck with it and I practiced and I trained and I got into NYADA and I've been making my dreams come through ever since.

Getting into the business was difficult. I think I went to something like five hundred auditions my first two years in New York. I like to think all my luck turned around the summer after sophomore year (I met Quinn and I got cast in an actual show), and I've never looked back since. Shows started coming in and I was making a name for myself. Some of it hasn't been kind. There are assholes in the industry, and there are men out there who believe that loving a woman is just a choice because I don't know any better.

Believe me, I know better.

This life also hasn't been all that easy on our relationship either. I know I've offered you all the highlights. I mean, we have a good marriage, but it's not always smooth-sailing. Quinn is guarded and I'm too much sometimes. We've had four truly massive fights in our long relationship, which have resulted in tears and storm-offs and threats of divorce. We have our therapist on speed dial. We're both passionate people who love each other fiercely and would do anything for the other's happiness and success. Sometimes, our intentions can get twisted.

But, look at us now. No, really, look at us. I've attached links to various clips of our acceptance speeches and the after-show interviews. We've been on a rollercoaster of press this past week (we're in LA while Charlotte is in NY with my parents - I miss her.) We're headed home tomorrow, though, to continue this whirlwind of a life.

We did it, Judy.

We did it.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Did I mention how happy I am?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 43.  
Date: 28 June** **2025**

Dear Judy,

I know it's been a little while. I've just been so busy with our little bundle. I didn't know how much work babies were until she arrived, and it's really a round-the-clock job. Charlotte Lily is officially six months old today. Quinn and I both decided to take some time off to spend these first few months together, just being a family. We've fallen into a pretty neat routine, and our kid is actually sleeping through the night. She also rolls over and gurgles and is in the process of learning to sit up without any support.

I've never thought that a person can get that excited about another person rolling over, but Quinn almost flew out the window. I think it was mainly in fear, at first, but then we kind of had a dance party when we figured out what happened. It's been so wonderful to be able to experience all these firsts with Charlotte, and to have Quinn right here beside me. It's everything. It's even more than that.

Quinn is going back to school in the Fall. She's taking up a teaching position while enrolling as a post-doc, and her publishers are expecting something magical. I've been lucky enough to read some of her new stuff (it's rooted mainly in her feelings towards motherhood) and it amazes me how she manages to get better and better. She's like a fine wine, Judy; just getting better with age. She's got this whole 'hot mom' thing going on now, and I swear I fall more and more in love with her every time I look at her. I have the same feelings towards Charlotte, and my heart is so full. I am so happy.

I've attached a few video clips for you. The first is of Charlotte rolling over. I love Quinn's reaction afterwards. That smile always shows up whenever Charlotte does something amazing (well, as amazing as rolling over can be). The second is of Quinn tickling Charlotte until she ended up projectile vomiting all over her. It was hilarious, and Quinn is STILL not impressed that I have the video at all. She would probably murder me in my sleep if she knew I was sending it to you. And the third is one Quinn took of me and Baby. I was singing her a lullaby, and I didn't even know Quinn was in the room. It's my favourite video, I think, because this is how I bond with Charlotte. Quinn has so much, and I have this.

Look at the family your daughter has, Judy. You should be proud.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Sorry.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 44.  
Date: 10 September** **2025**

Dear Judy,

So, Quinn started at Columbia last week. We had a teary morning on her first day, with me and Charlotte waving her off. She called every hour throughout the day, and then was extremely clingy when she got home. It was pretty adorable, really, and I definitely didn't mind. Just knowing that Quinn Berry-Fabray misses you is enough to make the world make sense. Technically, Quinn is still breastfeeding, so she spends an inordinate amount of time pumping for Baby and I to use while she's out. I think it's the part she hates the most. More than changing diapers, apparently.

We're hearing rumblings of a potential Brittana (Santana and Brittany) wedding, but we've been duped before. I think Santana is waiting to finish her Residency before they get married, and Quinn still believes there are still years to go before there's a wedding. She predicts that Brittany will have a baby before then. Apparently, Charlotte has created baby-fever around here. Kurt and Blaine are already considering it (apparently, they're not getting any younger, and they don't want to look like grandparents when their kid is in the first grade), and Noah and Meghan (who still live in LA, by the way) want to expand their family. The good thing to come out of that latter thing is that the couple would return to New York to do it, and I'm all for that.

I can't help it that I want us all back in the same city. I want Charlotte to be surrounded by all the people who love her and will protect her. One day, Judy, I hope you'll be one of those people too. I've attached the first recording of the lullaby Quinn and I wrote for Charlotte. It has a planned release next month as part of a 'Graceless' movie anniversary special. Buy the DVD and get the song for download, kind of thing. I think it's the best song we've ever written. It's called 'All I've Ever Needed,' and we get to give it to Charlotte for forever.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I'm not kidding when I say that I would want you to be part of Charlotte's life. One day.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 45.  
Date: 21 December** **2025**

Dear Judy,

Happy holidays! I know I've been rather AWOL lately. It's just that motherhood has made me so... I don't even have the words to describe it, really. I feel a lot of emotions all of the time, and this holiday season has me acting like a complete sap. It's our first one with Charlotte, and Quinn and I are, admittedly, going a little overboard with the festivities. It's as if Santa Claus exploded in our living room and, really, an eleven-month-old doesn't need that many presents. She's not even going to remember any of this.

Oh, God. We're going to turn into THOSE parents. What if we end up with a spoilt brat for a child? What if we end up with a child like ME? Excuse me, I have to go talk to Quinn.

I've attached a few pictures of our decorations. There's also a picture of Charlotte in a 'Santa's Little Helper' hat that I LOVE.

Stay safe.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Just so we're both clear on this, I expect Quinn to laugh her head off when I bring it up to her.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 46.  
Date: 1 February 2026**

Dear Judy,

People kept telling us that the first year is the hardest. I'll be the first to admit that they're probably right. I read this deeply sobering statistic about how many marriages crumble during the first year after their baby is born, so I was worried. More so than I would have admitted to Quinn or Dr Monroe.

Maybe Quinn and I are an exception, I don't know, but we've survived and I think we've come out stronger. It wasn't all smooth-sailing, and we get a little frustrated. I'm a little antsy these days. I think I'd like to go back to work. I have a third album hanging around that I could polish up. I don't think I'm willing to dive into the demands of a Broadway show with Charlotte still so young. I don't want to miss things, and music is one of those things I can do from home, if needs be. I've been doing my own writing, and I'm pretty sure I could fill two albums with all the feelings I have about our baby.

So, we had a little party for Charlotte yesterday. She's officially a one-year-old, and Quinn and I are the epitome of proud parents. It's almost ridiculous how pathetic we are. My one father, Hiram, once told me that you're never truly in love until you have a child. At the time, I thought he was talking about the love I would feel for Charlotte, but I know better now. I didn't truly know love until I watched Quinn be a mother to our child. Honestly, Judy, I couldn't ask for a better parenting partner.

You should know that Charlotte is walking now. Well, walking is a relative term, I suppose. She kind of just leans forward and her legs kick in to stop her from falling on her face. She waddles, really. It's hilarious. Also, I definitely shouldn't find as much amusement in my kid falling on her bottom as I do, but I truly do. It's as if she surprises herself whenever it happens, and I just have to laugh. It can't be avoided. She's also feeding herself (which is always just such a mess - her aim is a little off), and she helps Quinn by turning the pages of the book whenever they're reading. Quinn still does that. Every night, without fail, Mommy and Baby read a story together. I hope their nighttime routine never fades.

Charlotte's birthday also marked the release of Quinn's latest book: 'Letters to Our Daughter,' which has had me sobbing far too many times than I'd care to admit. It's nothing like she's written before, in that the author is listed as Quinn Berry-Fabray and not Lucy Quinn. She's written as herself, to Charlotte. The letters are so personal and raw and perfect. It's a short anthology, really, because her new novel (the one that tackles her own struggles of motherhood) is being released in late Summer, and Kurt is hoping to put together a promotional tour for me to coincide with Quinn's book tour. (We can all go on the road together.)

I've attached a few pictures from the party. And, yes, that blob covered in cake is our daughter. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get icing out of soft blonde curls? Ugh.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I don't have any pictures of Quinn as a baby. Was she as cute as Charlotte is?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 47.  
Date: 15 April** **2026**

Dear Judy,

Your granddaughter is a menace. I'm exhausted. Like, beyond exhausted. I don't know where Charlotte finds the energy, really. She's thirty pounds of endless motion and I can't keep up. I'm too old. I'm WAY too old, and my back hurts from staying bent for so long. Quinn says that we should tie her to the coffee table so we won't lose her in the house, and I'm only half-sure she's joking.

Speaking of Quinn. She's in Columbus tonight (Charlotte and I are in New York) at a reading. She's been flying around the country to events honouring her 'Letters to Our Daughter,' and I thought you'd like to know that she's in Ohio. I think people have taken to the letters as well as they have because of their content. A lot of the time, celebrities (forgive me, really) have kind of hidden their truths about what it's like to be a parent in this industry. Quinn hasn't. She's voiced her fears of how fame will affect Charlotte's upbringing, and she's given a name to the fear she feels constantly. She says that Charlotte is a piece of her heart just up and walking - stumbling, really - around outside her body. It's terrifying.

If I'm being honest, I'm suffering a bit of that separation-anxiety having Quinn gone. Charlotte helps, of course, but I find myself holding her for a little too long and constantly needing her in my sights. Dr Monroe says it's perfectly normal because this is the first time Quinn and I have been apart since Charlotte's birth. I'm not sure I like it. In fact, I hate it.

My first single off my third studio album is being released next week. It's called 'Hold It Down,' and Quinn claims it's her favourite song. Ever. She's a biased little shit, sure, but it's my favourite too. I've attached a sneak peek for you. Guard it with your life or my label will kill me.

Hope you're well.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I worry. It's been much publicised that Quinn's family doesn't accept her homosexuality, and I worry how Charlotte will come to understand that the fact that her mother loves her other mother means that she's missing half of a family. One day, will you help me explain this to her?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 48.  
Date: 2 July** **2026**

Dear Judy,

Greetings from Seattle!

Quinn, Charlotte and I are all here for my promotional tour. We couldn't get the dates to sync up (the book release has been postponed somewhat), but we're still here as a family.

We just arrived at the hotel after a ride on the ferry, which was a nightmare, really. I don't say this lightly, but Charlotte almost ran straight overboard. If Quinn hadn't reached out to grab her, I'm certain we would be having an entirely different conversation. It's terrifying just thinking about it, and Charlotte was so surprised that she burst into tears. I don't know if she'll still like ferries after this experience. Even I'm reevaluating my opinion on them. Quinn says we're going to have to go again tomorrow to make sure she isn't scared of them. Quinn is all about facing her fears.

Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the summer. We'll be in Ohio in two weeks' time, both of us with events in Columbus and Cleveland. Quinn is less antsy about making the return, which is good. I think she's finally reached a certain sense of closure with her home state, and I'm proud of her for it. I'm proud of so many things.

I've attached a picture of the three of us on the ferry. It was taken moments before we were hoarded by fans. Sigh.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Have you ever been to Seattle?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 49.  
Date: 18 July** **2026**

Dear Judy,

You saw us, didn't you? I mean, I saw you see us, so of course you saw us. Quinn wanted to take Charlotte to see Lima, and Santana and Brittany were there visiting, so we took a car. If you're wondering, no, Quinn didn't see you. She was too caught up in Charlotte and Brittany and the ducks.

They're beautiful, aren't they? My family.

Truthfully, I'm unsure what I'm feeling right now, and I don't know what to say. You saw us.

I've still attached a picture from that day. It's the first time I've ever seen Quinn smile that way in relation to Lima, Ohio.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Definitely not this time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 50.  
Date: 22 August** **2026**

Dear Judy,

We're on our first holiday as a family. Like, an actual, real holiday that has nothing to do with work. Guess where we are! Disneyland!

At first I was apprehensive about coming. I thought Charlotte would be too young, but this place is amazing and so accommodating for babies. I did my research beforehand, of course, and they have some of the best Baby Care Centres I've ever seen. We could live here.

We spent yesterday in Fantasyland, and today was all about Mickey's Toontown. I think I like it the most here because Charlotte gets so tuckered out that she sleeps right through the night. Of course, her sleep schedule is out of whack (regular nap times are out of the question), but she just gets so excited, and then I get so excited, and Quinn claims that she's brought two children to Disneyland instead of one. How rude is that? That's your daughter, Judy.

Speaking of. Apparently, the night of the 24th is only for Mommies, and Quinn has some things planned for our anniversary. I love my daughter, but it would be nice to spend some solo time with my wife. Maybe we'll have a nice, quiet dinner at the resort, or even go out on the town. Who knows?

Well, Quinn does. Obviously.

I've attached SO MANY pictures for you. Most are from our trips on the rides: Alice in Wonderland, Pirates of the Caribbean, It's a Small World, The Haunted Mansion, and Buzz Lightyear Astro Blasters. Charlotte especially liked the first one, and Quinn almost started crying. Alice in Wonderland is one of her favourite stories. I think we'll be going on it again before we leave.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not yet.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 51.  
Date: 17 September** **2026**

Dear Judy,

Quinn's new book is out, and it's already a bestseller! My new album is out as well, and it appears to be doing well. (Yip, we're totally THAT couple). We can barely leave the house these days or take Charlotte anywhere with us. My parents have to come here to see her, and I can't remember the last time I wasn't hoarded by paparazzi. I'm going on a World Tour next month, so I'm using this time to spend with Quinn and Charlotte before, well, I take Charlotte with me. Because of Quinn's work, she won't be able to come with me, but we have a plan. She lectures only on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, which gives us a lot of free time to work with where she can fly out to wherever we are in the world.

Did you hear that?

WORLD TOUR, Judy.

We're going FULL international.

Kurt is coming with me for the first leg in America, and then my parents will be on the international leg in the new year. I need people I love and trust close by to help with Charlotte, and I think Quinn will be more comfortable with that.

AND, Noah and his band, The Bearded Dragons, are going to be opening up for me. Oh, did I tell you that Meghan's pregnant? We found out last week. They're two months in, and I'm so excited for another baby in our little village. This news definitely has Kurt and Blaine making plans. I know they've been speaking to my parents about their options, and I'm just so happy for them in deciding to take that step.

Santana and Brittany still aren't married, though Santana has come through her Residency, passing her Boards swimmingly, and now she's doing her Cardio Fellowship at Mount Sinai. Charlotte loves to call her the 'Heart Doctor,' and our kid seems to appreciate Santana's profession more than she does either of ours. I'm trying really hard not to be offended. I mean, if Charlotte wants to be a doctor, then she should be whatever she wants to.

I've attached a link to purchase Quinn's book, and another link to purchase my album. Go on. You know you want to support our fledgling careers. Hah.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. If ever I get to see your music collection, I'm going to check for my music. Just letting you know.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 52.  
Date: 1 December** **2026**

Dear Judy,

Greetings from Omaha!

The tour is going well. We're selling out stadium after stadium, and it's been amazing getting to interact with the fans. They've really taken to the album (a lot of the songs are about Quinn and Charlotte and family and life and love), and the messages seem to be resonating with so many listeners. Quinn surprises a few fans at the meet-and-greets, and she ends up having these in-depth discussions on the sides while I take pictures with an endless flow of people. I just love that the work we do can give people so much to talk about. I love that what we do seems to matter.

By the way, Kurt and Blaine have decided to go the surrogate route. In another life, I suspect that they might have asked me or Quinn, but it's just not feasible right now. I would do it wholeheartedly, but the tour is HUGE, and Quinn claims her body would reject the idea, even if her head were to say yes. We offered up one of our eggs anyway. Though, I think it'd be slightly weird having a child in the world that wasn't actually yours, but I would do it for them. Still, I'm kind of hoping they choose a stranger. I don't think my latent separation-anxiety would be able to handle it.

Also, Quinn says they're optioning her third book, 'Wish I Never Met You,' and they want her to write the screenplay. She's apprehensive about it because the whole idea of the novel is that the depression her character goes through is faceless and nameless and voiceless. It's just there, and putting it into film gives it a tangible character she doesn't want it to have. It's a literary masterpiece that I think only Quinn can properly adapt into a screenplay. Nobody else would be able to do it. As yet, she hasn't given them an answer, but she's started planning a way to adapt it. She has this thinking face she does when she's in Writer-Mode, and it's - well, it's hot. I'm sorry, but it's just super hot.

Anyway, I've attached a link to a video of Quinn bringing Charlotte onto stage with her. We sang our lullaby for her, and the entire crowd joined us. It was magical. Sometimes, I have to pinch myself. Can you believe this is my life?

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not quite there.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 53.  
Date: 26 December** **2026**

Dear Judy,

Happy holidays from Washington D.C.! I know it's not the exotic place you thought we might be, but we're loving it here. The tree is amazing! It's HUGE. I have a concert tonight, and everyone is here for it. Kurt, Blaine, Santana, Brittany, Noah, Meghan, my parents, my Quinn and my Charlotte. I have a feeling it's going to be a special show. I don't know why I think that, but I just know it.

I asked Quinn what she wanted to do after all of this is done; after all the fame and the fortune have died down and we're just washed up ex-Hollywood A-listers. I wanted to know what she wanted for our lives after we burned ourselves out trying to make it, and do you know what she said? She said she just wants to be happy. That's it. Happy and loved. It's all she's ever wanted out of life, and the rest has just been a bonus. I want that too. I want it for us, and for our entire family.

She also says she'd like to have more children, but we'll get to that another time.

I've attached a group picture of us at the Washington Monument. It took FIFTEEN tries to get this timed picture right, and then Charlotte wasn't even looking at the camera. In the end, Meghan just asked a passing tourist to do it for us, which got us recognised, and we spent the next half hour taking selfies and chatting to fans while my parents turned our daughter into an aeroplane.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Maybe next time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 54.  
Date: 28 January 2027**

Dear Judy,

My baby girl turns two years old today. Right now, she's down for her afternoon nap, and Quinn is in the kitchen baking a cake. We're going low-key this year because we're not actually at home. In fact, we just got to London. I'm playing Wembley Stadium tomorrow and Saturday night, and I'm a little nervous. Big stadiums and big crowds. I love it all, don't get me wrong, but it can be overwhelming.

Last night, Quinn spoke at Cambridge. Charlotte and I attended the talk, but then we had to leave because Baby had to get to bed. Quinn was in her element, saying words and showing off her big brain until they were eating out of her palm.

I know my wife is stunning, but seeing her in action is something out-of-this-world. It helps only her that she knows how to work a room, because people usually don't know how to handle her sheer presence. She's entirely too self-aware of her powers. I realise now that, in that bathroom so many years ago, I never stood a chance. She had me hooked from the very beginning, reeled me in and convinced me it was my idea to be caught in the first place. She's entirely too smug about it, the little shit.

I've attached a picture of a sleeping Charlotte with her little lamb, creatively named 'Lamby.' Quinn mentioned that she used to have a stuffed lamb as well, and she loves that Charlotte has grown so attached. The two of them also share a love for sea turtles. Those things are stinking cute.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Not this time.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 55.  
Date: 7 March** **2027**

Dear Judy,

Greetings from Prague!

Quinn and I now have a very well-travelled two-year-old. My girls are both doing well, happy, and enjoying their extended vacation. Quinn's decided not to teach this semester (she's still supervising). It's kind of a sabbatical, though not really. She flies back to New York at least once a month for faculty meetings and consultations with students. She's also been busy with her screenplay, though she hasn't given the green light on the project yet. She says she's only going to give it the go-ahead if SHE can make it happen on paper. This novel is too important to her to let other people potentially just mess it up. She would much rather not do it at all than do it wrong.

I just don't want her to have to go to LA. I suppose we could go with. I mean, Charlotte is young enough, and there's plenty for me to do there, but I'd really just like to settle in New York and STAY. Charlotte will be starting play school soon (okay, so not that soon), and I want us to have an established routine by then.

But, I suppose we'll see what happens.

We're both getting inspired by our travels. I've been writing a lot of music, and my personal lyricist (otherwise known as my wife) is helping. It's a luxury, really, because I can wake up in the middle of the night with a melody in my head and she's RIGHT THERE. Everyone should marry a personal lyricist. It's so convenient.

I've attached a picture of our nighttime musings. Quinn's handwriting it honestly the worst when she's half-asleep.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Sorry.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 56.  
Date: 6 June** **2027**

Dear Judy,

Just a quick one. At 18h28 on 4th June 2027, Meghan Nicole Puckerman gave birth to a perfect baby boy weighing in at ten pounds and four ounces. His name is Ryan Christopher Puckerman, and he's a little champion. Gosh, he's so loved already.

I've attached a picture of our new bundle in his father's arms. I don't think I've ever seen Noah so happy.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I have this feeling.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 57.  
Date: 19 July** **2027**

Dear Judy,

Today marks the day that I met Quinn exactly thirteen years ago. Wow. It amazes me to think about it, actually. Thirteen years ago, I didn't even know this wonder of a human being existed, and now she's my wife. It's funny how time and life works like that, isn't it? I told you once that I believe in fate and destiny, and that hasn't changed. Quinn and I were meant to meet, in some way or the other and, when we did, it would be magic.

And it has been. Complete and utter magic.

We've accomplished so much in these thirteen years. So much success and fame and wealth. All the awards and the accolades and the reviews. We've accomplished things that people spend lifetimes trying to achieve and, as ungrateful as it may sound, none of it even means anything anymore. When I was younger, my ultimate dream was winning the EGOT. It's coveted, and I wanted it. And then I got it, and it barely compares to the accomplished dream that is Quinn and Charlotte. Nothing in this world comes close to meaning anything to me as much as my family does.

If thirty-three-year-old Rachel Berry-Fabray were ever to tell twenty-year-old Rachel Berry just how much her life would change after she walked into that bar's bathroom; she would never believe it. Sometimes, even I don't believe it, and I'm the one who's lived it.

Whether she knows it or not, Quinn has made every single one of my dreams come true, whether I realised they were dreams of mine at the time or not. Your daughter has given me the greatest gift she could ever give me, Judy: herself. She's given me her love and her light, and I will never want for anything more in this life.

I think I'm reconsidering my original stance on renewing our vows. Hmm.

I've attached a throwback picture to that night we met. The lighting isn't so great, but look at how young we all are. Gosh. How we've grown. How we've lived.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. I still have that feeling, and I don't think it's necessarily a good thing.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 58.  
Date: 19 August** **2027**

Dear Judy,

We've been in New York for three straight weeks. I'm so relieved. I'm a little sick of travelling, even though I love touring. Charlotte has adjusted well to being back home. Quinn as well. She seems relaxed, and the writing is coming thick and fast. We're her inspirations, apparently. Sweet-talker.

I have news about Kurt and Blaine. We have another baby on the way. Baby Anderson-Hummel should be with us by March next year. They're so excited, and I'm so happy. Our village is growing!

The screenplay is officially done. She's agonised over it for the last month, editing and tweaking it until she was convinced it was ready, even making me read lines for her so she could hear the tempo. She's a master of her art, Judy. It's fascinating to see her brain in motion.

She sent it through to the directors and producers and, if they're willing to make THAT movie, then she's in. Which means LA again. At least, I think it does. I don't know. For all I know, they might say no and the entire deal could fall through. Though, that's unlikely. Who in his or her right mind would say no to a Quinn Berry-Fabray screenplay? If they say no, someone is going to say yes, and that someone is going to cash in on my wife's brilliance. Did you know that? My wife is brilliant.

We're coming up on another anniversary. This year, I'M taking the reigns. Because we're rather recognisable, there's only so much we can do in the city, but the two of us have been toying with the idea of investing in a holiday home in the Hamptons. It'll be a nice place to take a break if we need it. Quinn can use it as a writing retreat, and we'll be able to give Charlotte and all her little brothers and sisters a backyard. So, we're going on a realty tour (I know, it sounds SO romantic). There are five properties on my shortlist, and we're going to view them and hopefully decide.

I've attached copies of the listing for your perusal. I'm leaning towards the third one, but I have a feeling Quinn is going to like number four. She's always been a sucker for a spiral staircase.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Do you happen to have a spiral staircase in your house?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 59.  
Date: 16 October** **2027**

Dear Judy,

Greetings from the Hamptons!

We're spending our first weekend in the new house, and everyone's come with us. Apparently, we're having an impromptu housewarming party and, really, Judy, this is the life. I can't even believe that I'm living it. It's that American Dream they promise you, but it's so much more. It's everything more.

I was right when I said Quinn would go for house number four. Our realtor, Justin, almost fainted when he realised we were his clients (I might have used a fake name for the initial query). I'm convinced he fell a little bit in love with Quinn just in the two hours we all spent together. Not that I blame him or anything, because I fall a bit in love with Quinn every single day.

While I love our master bedroom (for obvious reasons) the most, Quinn adores the study/library. I think she would move into it if she could (I'm sure all her stuff would fit in it), but that's just not feasible. Noah claims that we've officially MADE IT. We're one of those couples; those celebrity couples, that live in Tribeca and have a house in the Hamptons.

Did you hear that, Judy? We made it.

We did.

I've attached a group picture of our first night here. It was surprisingly painless to get this one done. Quinn thinks we should get a dog.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. We're definitely not getting a dog. I have enough trouble wrangling two rowdy blondes.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: Hello there. Again x 60.  
Date: 25 November** **2027**

Dear Judy,

Tragedy has struck!

Quinn's trusty laptop (the one she's had since she wrote 'Graceless' and refuses to set aside) has decided to end its own life. She's fallen into this pouty kind of depression, as if she doesn't quite believe it. I've never seen anyone go through the five stages of grief over technology but, I kid you not, I'm seeing it with my own eyes.

The only person she's remotely present with is Charlotte, and that's only because it isn't humanly possible not to be full of joy in our daughter's presence. Quinn is stubbornly refusing to get a new laptop, so she keeps bugging me to check her emails from students on mine. I think I'm going to have to order a new one for her to preserve BOTH of our sanities. I already have one toddler to deal with.

At least Blaine managed to convince her to backup everything on the Cloud, or I think she would be inconsolable. I've attached a picture I snapped of her sulking. Isn't she just the cutest?

The screenplay was given the green light, by the way. Quinn signed the deal. Details still to follow.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

P.S. Has she always been like this?

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: rachel_berry  
** **Subject: -  
Date: 28 November 2027**

Judy,

Quinn found our emails.

I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen now because she's refusing to let me explain, though I'm not even sure what I would say.

I don't think I'll be able to email for a while (possibly forever), and I'm sorry for that. When I started with these emails, I think I did it because I wanted you to know what you were missing. I'll admit that, since then, they've been surprisingly therapeutic for me. I hope you've appreciated them because, right now, I have to go and fight for my marriage.

Take care.

Kind regards,  
Rachel Berry-Fabray

* * *

t.b.c.


	2. It'll Work Itself Out

**Part Two**

 **It'll Work Itself Out**

* * *

Rachel Berry-Fabray can count on one hand the number of times she's seen her wife look at her like _that_. They've had four massive fights in the thirteen and a bit years they've been together, and this fifth one just might be the one to break them. Rachel has been one for blowing things out of proportion, but she's convinced she has a right to be worried this time.

This time is different.

Her wife hasn't said a word to her in eighty-three hours and sixteen minutes. It's the loudest silence she's ever had to endure, and she's unsure how to get Quinn to talk to her. It's almost too much to handle, and even Charlotte is starting to notice that something is terribly amiss between her two mothers. The toddler keeps looking between them at the dinner table, her little brow crinkled as she tries to figure out what's different.

While Quinn talks to Charlotte with all the normal enthusiasm, she barely looks at Rachel.

Rachel feels it so acutely that it's pressing down on her chest, making breathing that bit more difficult. She _was_ worried something like this would happen if ever Quinn found out about the emails. She was worried Quinn would yell and scream and shout. She expected anger and rage. She was almost prepared for it.

But she's definitely not prepared for whatever _this_ is.

This... silence.

It's unsettling and heartbreaking, and Rachel has no idea what she's supposed to say or do to get Quinn to _talk_ to her. It's all she wants; just to talk, but Quinn is resisting and avoiding like a professional.

Quinn barely eats anything as they sit through dinner, just shifting her food around her plate. She's noticeably lost in thought, and Rachel just wants to break _into_ that head of hers and figure out what's going through her mind, so she knows how to handle this situation. She's tempted to call someone - maybe one of her fathers - for some advice, but she's betrayed enough of Quinn's trust already.

And, dammit, she should know how to fix this... thing with _her wife_.

Rachel is lost in her own thoughts when Quinn lets out an unexpected laugh, and Rachel snaps to attention, visibly puzzled. What could _possibly_ be funny right now?

Quinn's eyes are on Charlotte, who has fallen asleep in her high chair, mid-chew. Food is even falling back out of her mouth and, for a moment, the world doesn't seem so scary and uncertain, and Rachel can't resist a smile.

And then, just like that, the humour is gone.

Quinn sobers at the sight of her smile, and then slowly rises to her feet. "I'll take her," she says, her tone brokering no argument, and then proceeds to lift the slumbering Charlotte into her arms and disappears from the dining room. For a terrifying moment, Rachel imagines that Quinn is taking Charlotte away and they're never coming back. The fear almost propels her out of her seat to follow after them, but she comes to her senses quickly.

She's being ridiculous.

Breathing a sigh, she gets up to clear the table. Like Quinn's, her food is also relatively untouched. They're going to have to talk about all of this soon, because this is definitely no way for them to be living. There has to be an _end_ at some point, and it has to be sooner rather than later because it's starting to affect Charlotte. As much as they've tried to keep everything as normal as they can - at least they're still sleeping in the same bed, though they haven't _touched_ in all those eighty plus hours - it's obvious Charlotte has noticed.

Rachel busies herself with packing away the food into containers and into the fridge. She considers her next move for a moment, and then decides to do the dishes. The act itself is usually one of Quinn's favoured chores, but she suspects it's unlikely her blonde wife will be coming back to the kitchen any time soon.

Once she's cleared everything and wiped down the counters, she steels herself for what's to come.

And, it is.

They're going to do this - whatever this is - _tonight_.

Rachel walks through the house towards Charlotte's bedroom where the door is slightly ajar and Charlotte's nightlight is peeking out. Rachel's unsure if she expects to find Quinn inside, but she still pokes her head through the gap to find she isn't.

Instead, she finds a sleeping Charlotte, wiped clean and dressed in her _Frozen_ footie pyjamas. She looks so peaceful, young and untouched, and Rachel absently wonders if her emails to Judy were worth it. Something about this situation feels irreparable, and it hurts in ways she didn't think was possible.

Right now, she thinks it wasn't worth it at all, but they still have things to talk about. Maybe she can convince Quinn this isn't as bad as it looks. Maybe, if Quinn would just let her _talk_ , they can work through all of this together and come out better for it.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Rachel quietly shuffles further into the room towards the one shining light in all their lives. Without waking her, Rachel places a gentle hand on Charlotte's chest, just to feel her speedy heartbeat. It settles something within her and, after a soft kiss to Charlotte's forehead, Rachel is ready to face whatever she has to when it comes to Quinn.

Quinn.

Her wife.

Whom she loves dearly, with everything she is and everything she has.

Rachel finds her in her office, sitting behind her desk and tapping something on her _iPad_. Evidently, she's still stubbornly refusing to unbox the laptop Rachel ordered for her. It's sitting on the couch in the corner and, for a moment, Rachel glares disgustingly at it. It's not the laptop's fault, of course, but it is _a_ laptop's fault, and she's ridiculously irritated with herself for even being mad at an inanimate object.

That isn't going to help either of them.

If Rachel's surprised Quinn left the door to her office open, she doesn't show it. Still, she knocks lightly on the wood and waits for Quinn to look up. When she doesn't, Rachel sighs in defeat, and enters the room anyway. Her heart is beating a little too fast for this to be an everyday conversation, and she wishes they were somewhere else entirely and doing something else completely different.

"Quinn?" Rachel says, surprised her voice is actually working, and it doesn't falter. The strength in her voice means nothing, though, because Quinn's fingers barely stop whatever she's doing. "Quinn, please will you look at me?"

Her fingers stop, and Rachel can see her brow crease.

"Please?"

Nothing.

" _Please_ , Quinn."

Quinn doesn't lift her head. "I can't," she says, and it sounds strangled. "I _can't_ ," she repeats. "I'm going to end up saying things I'm going to regret."

"Say them," she immediately says. "It's okay. I can take it."

" _I_ can't." Quinn slides her _iPad_ away as if it's insulted her. "I can't, Rachel. I just can't, and you shouldn't want me to."

"I want to know what you're thinking," Rachel presses, and she means it.

Quinn shakes her head. "I'm not doing this right now," she says tensely. "Charlotte is - "

"Asleep," Rachel finishes. "Our daughter is _asleep_. She can't hear you. I'll close the door, and you can say whatever you need to say."

"Why do you automatically assume I have anything to say at all?" she practically snarls, and Rachel flinches. That tone of voice hasn't come out since the incident with the macaroons that almost had them calling off the wedding. "I have _nothing_ to say."

"Quinn, I get that you're mad, but - "

"I am _not_ mad," she hisses, finally looking up, and Rachel's heart skips a beat at the vacant, distant look in her eyes. "What I'm feeling is the _furthest_ thing from _mad_. I don't even know _what_ I'm feeling, and the fact that you keep asking me is starting to piss me off."

"So, you _are_ mad?"

In a burst of rage, Quinn gets to her feet, knocking her chair back a few feet. Her hands fly to her hair and she tugs hard enough to hurt. Rachel wants to go to her; to hold her, but she stays put. Quinn definitely doesn't want her comfort right now. "Do you - do you have any _idea_ what this is like?" she asks, and the pain in her voice is too much for Rachel to handle. "Do you know how - how - _God_." She spins around, facing away from Rachel with her shoulders hunched. She's breathing heavily in an attempt to reign in her emotions.

Rachel uses the opportunity to close the office door as quietly as she can. She's not worried about _them_ being able to hear Charlotte because she can see Quinn's baby monitor blinking on the edge of her desk. She's just back in position when Quinn turns back around, her eyes shining with tears she's not allowing herself to shed.

For a moment, Quinn looks confused, as if she can tell there's something different but she's unsure what. It's only for a moment because then she's speaking. "I _wish_ I was mad. I wish I felt angry and irate and resentful, but I can't even call on those emotions. I don't feel those things, and this is so much worse. This is - this is deep inside, Rachel, and I don't want to feel this." She closes her eyes. "You are my wife. My _wife_. We've built this amazing, wonderful, beautiful life together, and to find out that you've been sharing it with my _mother_ \- a woman who _told_ me to my face that I am an abomination - hurts in ways I can't even begin to describe.

"I mean, I'm a writer, so I should have the words, right? I should have _all_ the words, but I don't. I don't know what to say or do, because this isn't - " she stops, shaking her head. "In the realm of _all_ possibilities in my life; of _all_ the scenarios I've ever thought up - and, believe me, I've thought of just about everything because I can be a pessimistic bitch and, for so long, I was sure I didn't deserve happiness - this one has _never_ come up. Never in my wildest fantasies did I think _my wife_ would be having a secret relationship with _my mother_. It's honestly beyond my belief. I still think this is all some fever dream, and I'm about to wake up beside you and tell you all about the clusterfuck of a nightmare I just had. Is this a dream? Tell me it's a fucking dream, Rachel, because there is _no way_ you've been sharing our lives with that woman!"

Rachel flinches at the venom in her voice, but Quinn doesn't seem to notice.

"Ever since I left home, I've known exactly _one_ thing to be absolutely certain," Quinn continues; "my family does not love me. I _chose_ the love of a woman over the love of my family, and I have to _believe_ that to be the ultimate truth because I _won't_ survive anything else. Do you understand? Do you get it? I made this decision years ago, Rachel. I waited patiently until I turned eighteen, graduated high school and secured my ride to Yale to sit my parents down and tell them I'm gay. I _knew_ it wouldn't go well. I heard enough about my father's thoughts on homosexuals, and my mother has _always_ just gone along with whatever he fucking says. I was _ready_ for anything: disbelief, anger, tears, threats to send me to some corrective camp, all of it. I did enough research on coming out to convince myself I would be able to _handle_ being kicked out.

"And then it happened, and I was _so_ not prepared. It was - it was fuel for my nightmares for _years_. It still is." Quinn drops her gaze; maybe in shame, Rachel doesn't know. "They were _disgusted_ , Rachel. They looked at me as if they didn't even recognise me; as if I hadn't been their perfect daughter for eighteen years and struggled through every single insane expectation and suffered through all the anxiety involved in _not_ disappointing them." She wipes at her eyes, removing the evidence of her traitorous tears. "We don't talk about this, so you don't _know_. You don't know that they gave me half an hour to pack my things and get out of their house. You don't know that my father set the timer on the fucking microwave, and then stood in the entrance hall to _watch_ me leave. You don't know that he proclaimed he had only one daughter. You don't know that she just _stood_ there and watched as he pronounced that I would burn in Hell for _daring_ to lie with another woman. You don't know what it feels like to have these people - these people who are _supposed_ to love and protect you unconditionally - look at you as if you're _nothing_. You don't know!"

Rachel's tears cannot be stopped.

"But I _chose_ this," Quinn cries, and it's painful. "I chose to be free and happy and live guiltlessly. I chose to love a woman. I chose to love _you_ , and I have never regretted it. You have given me this great, wonderful life, and it's enough for me not to care that my _family_ think I am _less_ , because you think I am _more_. This has always been a certainty for me, Rachel. My life is great, and I've never wanted anything more, and one of the things to tide me over is that _they_ would never know how fucking happy I am. They would never know _anything_ about my life, because they don't deserve to know. They don't get to indulge in my successes or hear about my failures. They don't get any of that because they - they _disowned_ me. They _denied_ me, and it fucking _hurts_ that you would give them a piece of me - a piece of _us_ \- and then stand there and try to justify it."

"Quinn, I - "

"I don't want to hear it!" she snaps, and the office falls into charged silence. Eventually, she breathes out slowly, her body deflating. "Why?" she asks quietly. " _Why_?"

Rachel suspects the question is rhetorical, so she doesn't risk speaking.

"I don't want to believe that any of this is actually happening," Quinn says. "Why would you do this? Why would you go behind my back and speak to my _mother_? Why, Rachel? Why?" She shakes her head, looking lost and confused. "I mean, what if this was me? What if _I_ was the one feeding Shelby all these things about our lives; talking to her _for years_ about you and your career and our lives? How would that make _you_ feel?"

In truth, Rachel hadn't actually considered that, and it throws her for only a moment but she can tell that Quinn is expecting a response. "I talk to my mother," she says, as if it makes all the difference.

"And, apparently, you talk to mine as well," Quinn mutters under her breath, but Rachel still hears her. There's an undeniable anger in her tone, and a hint of jealousy.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says, as if she hasn't been saying the same words every chance she can in the past eighty-five hours. Then: "I love you."

Quinn swallows audibly. "I don't doubt that," she says truthfully. "I've _never_ doubted that. You wouldn't be with me if you didn't love me. I'm not the easiest person to choose to spend your life with."

Rachel snorts in amusement. "I would never choose anyone else," she says.

"Don't think I didn't see how smitten you were with Brittany Snow," Quinn says, sounding half-amused. "I was on that set too, you know?"

There's something in her voice that gives Rachel pause, forcing her to pay attention. It's _not_ a knowing lilt. It's almost -

"Quinn," Rachel says; "have you _read_ the emails?"

Quinn looks at her, puzzled. "What?"

"Did you read them?"

Quinn sputters at the question, and then frowns. "Was I supposed to do that before or after I found out that my wife has been emailing my _mother_ and then had a major fucking freakout over it?"

Rachel's upper lip twitches in slight amusement. "I think you should read them," she says. "Maybe it'll help you understand better."

Quinn shakes her head. "No."

Rachel breathes in slowly, and then starts walking around the desk to where her wife is standing rigid, the tension in her body remaining, even if the crease in her forehead has eased somewhat. "Baby, I think you should read them," she says. "Maybe it's not what you want, but it might be what you _need_."

Quinn just stares at her, looking younger than she has in years.

"Just read them, Quinn," Rachel says. "Read them, and then we can talk, okay?"

Quinn looks deeply unsettled, but she allows Rachel to push her down into her desk chair. She rolls Quinn forward into position and sets up her own laptop in front of her. She curses herself as she pulls up her old email account and doesn't even have to input her login details. It's a rookie error, really, but she's choosing to see this as a blessing in disguise.

Something is going to come of this, she's sure.

When she pulls up the window, Rachel turns her attention to Quinn, who's just staring at the screen but not exactly _seeing_ it. For a moment, she's tempted to call it all off and just drag her to their bedroom where she can wrap her in strong arms and kiss all the pain away.

Instead, Rachel presses a kiss to Quinn's hairline, gently inhaling her wife's scent: a touch of apple and cinnamon. "I love you," she whispers. "I love you so much."

Quinn tilts her head to meet her gaze. "I was fine," she murmurs.

"Oh, baby," Rachel says, wrapping her in a hug and pressing Quinn's head to her chest. "No, you weren't. You've never been."

And, really, Quinn doesn't have a rebuttal for that.

"Read them," Rachel says again. "I promise everything is going to be okay. I'll be right here when you're done. I'll be right here for forever." She kisses her forehead again, and then releases her. She offers a reassuring smile, and then leaves the office, hoping above all else that she hasn't done irreparable harm to her beautiful, broken wife.

* * *

...

* * *

"I hate that you've done this to me," Quinn says as she walks into the living room, and Rachel's head snaps up from the script she's been pretending to read for the last ninety-three minutes. "I was _fine_."

Rachel says nothing as she watches her wife cross the room and settle on the same couch. Without thought, she shifts Rachel's feet into her lap and absently begins to massage them. The practiced action almost brings a smile to Rachel's face, but Quinn still looks conflicted.

"You gave her so much, Rachel," she says. "For _years_ , you gave her so much of me, of you, of our daughter, and of our _lives_. She didn't deserve that."

Rachel sighs. "You're right," she concedes. "She didn't."

Quinn turns her head to look at her. "I didn't know some of those things about you," she says. "I didn't know you thought all those things about me."

"I _love_ you, Quinn," she says, and she tries to make it sound as if it's the most important thing in the world. It kind of is. Those words are heavy and important. "Sometimes, you look at me as if you don't believe me. Even all these years later."

Quinn's hands grow still, and she frowns. "I _know_ you love me," she says. "The part I don't get is _why_." She pauses. "Well, I _didn't_ get it, but I think I understand a bit more now."

Rachel sets the script aside and sits up, removing her feet from Quinn's lap and shuffling closer. "I'm not good with words the way you are."

"You do all right," Quinn interjects.

Rachel smiles gently. "I love you. I don't know how else to say it." She reaches for Quinn's hands and gives them a gentle squeeze. "I am so proud of you, and I wanted Judy to know that you found people who cherish everything you are in all the ways that matter." She sighs. "Once I started, I couldn't quite bring myself to stop. I look at you, sometimes, and I don't believe you even exist, and there was a part of me that wanted to share it with someone who - " she stops. "I don't even know."

"You imagine, as my mother, she _had_ to be proud of me too," Quinn says. " _She_ had to be the one to understand."

"Exactly," Rachel agrees, sounding relieved that Quinn seems to be able to put words to what she's feeling when she can't. "I know it's hurt you, and I'm sorry for that, baby, but it's helped me. I don't know how or why, but it's helped me come to terms with all my feelings for you and about you and surrounding you." She squeezes Quinn's fingers. "You are my world. You have _given_ me the world. And, as much as we can deny it, she gave me _you_. She might have broken you along the way, but you are this beautiful, brilliant and bold human being who is _mine_ , and I needed her to know."

"I _am_ yours," Quinn says. "I've been yours since you snapped that atrocious picture of me in that seedy bathroom."

Rachel chuckles softly.

Quinn sighs. "I was fine," she says again, but she sounds less sure now. "I was _fine_."

"Okay, Quinn."

She presses her lips together. "I've spent years with the knowledge that my family has never cared to know anything about me. But, knowing that she came to your show and finding out that she actually read your emails changes things. She - she _cares_."

"She does care, yes," Rachel agrees.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that information."

Rachel, unexpectedly, doesn't have any answers for her. What could she say, anyway? To this day, _she_ still doesn't know what to do with that truth, and she's had _years_ to wrap her head around it.

"Also, I don't appreciate the number of times you referred to me as a 'little shit.'"

Rachel can only smile, though it doesn't reach her eyes. Everything just feels too heavy for any humour.

Then.

 _Then_.

"She replied, by the way," Quinn says, sounding entirely too casual.

Rachel blinks. "What?"

"While I was reading," she says with a shrug; "a reply came through."

Rachel's spine straightens as if she's been electrocuted. "Did you just say that she replied?" she asks in disbelief. "Like, there's currently an email from Judy sitting in my inbox right now?"

Quinn frowns at her as if she's going crazy and, yes, maybe she is. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Quinn," she says slowly. "Did you not read the post scripts? Judy has _never_ replied."

She blinks once, twice, before it clicks and her eyes widen.

A beat later, they're both scrambling to their feet and sprinting towards Quinn's office. Quinn, ever the athlete despite her injuries, uses her long legs to get there first and slides into her desk chair. She turns slightly, inviting Rachel to sit on her lap, and then they both focus on the screen of Rachel's laptop.

Quinn opens the window and brings up the inbox. When the black dot appears, indicating a message received from 'judyevelynfabray,' they just sit and stare for a few minutes. Rachel presses her back to Quinn's front, and she can feel Quinn's heart thumping against her ribcage.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks, somewhat breathlessly.

"No."

Rachel turns slightly and presses a kiss to her cheek. "We don't have to read it, if you don't want to," she offers. "We can delete it or ignore it completely or just leave it there for a later time. We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Quinn shakes her head as if she's trying to clear it. Closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the back of Rachel's shoulder, she breathes out slowly. "I love you," she says. "I think this'll eat away at both of us if we don't read it now." She presses gentle kisses to Rachel's shoulder, absently shifting her hair out of the way and dragging her lips towards the nape of her neck. "Open it."

Rachel's distracted enough for her fingers to fumble as she attempts to open the email. She hasn't felt her wife's lips anywhere near her body since she came home to find her seething and pacing... and then falling completely silent. It's been endless worry and nervous hours since then. "Quinn," she breathes, pressing back into the blonde's body.

Quinn chuckles lightly as her hands snake around Rachel's middle and her palms press against her abdomen. "Open the email, Rachel."

With a sigh, she does just that, and the two of them settle in to read Judy's email, Quinn's arms tightening around her waist and her chin settling on Rachel's shoulder.

* * *

.

* * *

 **To: rachel_berry  
** **From: judyevelynfabray  
** **Subject: -  
Date: 3 December 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I'm using the sign of no post script as permission to reply to you.

Finally.

I've been saving up for this precise moment for years. If you never see this email, then that's okay. I'll know I've sent it, and that's the important part, isn't it? If I never hear from you again, just know that I have deeply appreciated everything you have ever offered me about your lives and your love. Thank you for making my daughter happy. Thank you for giving her the family she's always deserved; the family we could never give her.

Over the years, I've been replying to your emails but not sending them. I've been waiting (im)patiently for the opportunity to send them and, while I hate the circumstances behind giving me this opportunity, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I wouldn't worry, though. If I know my daughter at all, and I like to think I might still, then it's only a matter of time before she cools down, comes to her senses and talks to you about all of this. Until then, it's truly been lovely hearing from you and getting to know you. You have a wonderful life and love and family. I've believed that from the very early on, and I intend to prove it.

.

 **10 June 2016**

Dear Rachel Berry,

I have to admit that I was initially unsure what to make of your email. You're correct in assuming you are definitely the last person I expected to hear from, but I'm immensely grateful and relieved you've offered me this opportunity to know even the bare minimum about Quinn's life.

I imagine you think we're horrible people - that I am horrible - and maybe you would be right about that. We said some terrible things to her, and I let her walk out of this house thinking we don't love her. It's been almost four years since then, and I've never forgiven myself for the role I did and didn't play in the effective end of my relationship with my own daughter.

She's always been a bit different, a little too intense for the simple life of Lima, Ohio. I think everyone was able to recognise it in her, so, yes, you're also correct in thinking I knew there was something to be found in her, though I was never quite sure what it was until she told us.

I did care about her orientation. In fact, I still do. It might have been four years, but my stance on that hasn't changed. I love my daughter, Rachel, but I'm unable to accept her lifestyle. You seem like a lovely young woman, but time won't see me accept any of this. I don't know if this is what you want to hear. Of course, I miss Quinn and, yes, I don't deserve your respect at all. We should never have reacted the way we did. We should have stayed calm, talked to Quinn and tried to figure this all out. We failed her.

As her mother, I failed her.

Still, it's wonderful to hear that she's happy. I've worried for her and about her over the years, and I am so proud to hear she's accomplished what she set out to do. Yale was not the school I would have chosen - her father insisted on Harvard for Law like her sister - but I'm so proud of her. I allow myself to think of her only sometimes because it hurts too much, and your email was a pleasant surprise. Thank you.

That picture is lovely. She truly is beautiful, and I find myself wondering if I told her that enough growing up. I do see the smile, Rachel, and it's beautiful. She is beautiful and perfect, and I can take no credit for any of it.

It is yours. Do better than I have and hold onto it.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I wasn't planning to.

.

 **12 March 2018**

Dear Rachel Berry,

Wow.

I didn't think I would ever hear from you again, so we're definitely both surprised by the existence of this second email. I'm glad to hear you're well.

I already knew about the book. Frannie, Quinn's sister, sent me an article about it last month and I waited with bated breath for the release. The content is a little 'out there' for my taste, but I still pre-ordered it. I picked it up yesterday, and I stayed up all night reading it. It is a magical thing, Rachel, and I too am immensely proud of her. I could identify lots of bits and pieces of Quinn in the writing, and I felt as if I was being invited into her headspace, if only for a little while. I almost feel as if I've learned an entire world of knowledge. She truly is a fascinating creature.

I had no idea it felt like that for her. 'Graceless' has offered me something of a snapshot into Quinn's struggle with her sexuality, and I feel even worse for the way we reacted to her coming out. We should have at least tried to understand. Maybe things would be different, I don't know.

Quinn's always loved New York, and I imagine you two have a good life there. I'm certain Columbia has been wonderful for her. She loves learning and channelling herself, and I'm unsurprised she's found success in the written word. She was always a bookworm, with her head constantly buried between the pages, and now it's manifested into a brilliant career.

Speaking as someone who did live with Quinn for eighteen years, I can attest to that. She can be rather particular about her living space. We weren't even allowed to enter her bedroom sometimes. Though, now that I come to think about it, maybe she was determined to hide herself so much that she kept us out of her life the only way she knew how while still living under our roof.

Admittedly, I wasn't wondering about how you met, but it was nice to hear the story. It is a little cliche, I'll have to agree. 'We met in a bar.' It's a nice story to tell, though. I can just imagine her scathing remark. She spent years perfecting that tone, though I like to think it's faded over the years.

When you mentioned Broadway, I did a quick Google search of your name. I watched a video of you performing, and you have a wonderful voice. It amazes me that such a huge voice can come out of such a small body. It seems the two of you are both on your way to great success, and I truly wish you all the best.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. We shall, indeed.

.

 **10 April 2018**

Dear Rachel Berry,

I too think you have started something, but you won't hear me complaining. I find that I'm starting to look forward to hearing from you.

The Bestseller news is amazing! It was never a doubt in my mind that Quinn would be successful in anything she set her mind to. She's never done things halfway, and she's quite the perfectionist. All I wanted for her was a stable, simple and successful life, and I realise I might have pushed too hard in the wrong directions.

You sound as if you have a good bunch of friends there, all of you making your way in the world. It's a relief to hear you both have love and support while you take the world by storm.

Oh. The Met. She told you about that, did she? I'm not proud of it. In my own family, anything to do with the Arts was never idolised. Sure, they expected us all to be able to play an instrument or have some kind of artistic talent, mainly to entertain our guests when called upon, which is the reason Quinn learned to play the piano and Frannie played the violin. I realise now that our expectations were stifling and suffocating.

I had a Skype call with Frannie the other day and we discussed Quinn's chosen career, and, for the first time, Frannie felt brave enough to confess to me that she dreamed of being a painter when she was younger. Instead, she became a corporate lawyer, Rachel. She's not doing what she's always wanted to, and she's unhappy in her career. As a mother, it's the last thing you want to hear from your child, and I believe I've now failed both my daughters in various ways. It's an extremely sobering thought, and I'm unsure how to proceed with what I've learned.

You're right.

Quinn is an author; a brilliant one, at that. She's an artist, you're correct. For the first time in a long time, I see what my expectations could have done to Quinn, because I see the signs of it in Frannie. For Quinn, though, it would have been worse because she would have forced herself to love a man for our sakes and, yes, maybe Quinn's sexuality is the thing that ended up saving her from the life she believed we wanted her to live.

You are blessed, Rachel.

You both are.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I imagine so.

.

 **24 April 2018**

Dear Rachel Berry,

I would never expect an apology from you, Rachel. In fact, I believe it is I who owes you an apology. And an endless one to Quinn, though I don't believe she would ever allow me to say the words. I wouldn't even know the right ones. It always makes me wonder where Quinn got her talent. Not from me, and definitely not from her father.

I was not, in any way, offended by your ire and I don't believe you were being rude. In fact, I find it endearing the way you are so protective of her. I believe I can learn a lot from you, and apply it to the rest of my life. I've been thinking about making a few changes myself.

The day she left, Quinn did not look angry. There was an air of acceptance about her; as if our reaction was something she almost expected of us, and I think that makes me feel more ashamed than anything. What kind of parents were we that our child was already sure she'd spent her last night in our home? I imagine the anger must have come later. I suffered through my own as well. Her father, to this day, I believe, is still in denial about it. His anger peaks whenever her name comes up, and he refuses to acknowledge he has a second daughter.

I'm sorry she hurts. I hate that it's come to that. If I could take it all back, I would. Though, I'm still unsure what I would do differently. Ask her to stay? Force her? Try to work things out? As much as it hurts, I still believe her leaving this place - this repressive, stifling place that was our creation - was the best thing for her.

I'm not handling it all, Rachel.

I am weak, and I miss her every day.

I think I'm a fan of _The New York Times_ as well. They paint a beautiful picture of her work and her life.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I think it does.

.

 **18 November 2018**

Dear Rachel Berry,

I was wondering if I would ever hear from you again.

That's amazing news. All of it.

I imagine Quinn is revelling in her new role as a PhD student. She's always enjoyed the challenge of her Academics. I wish I could see her speak. One day, maybe. I also wish I could see what you see because you see her so wonderfully. The way you describe her and the way you very clearly love her leaves me speechless from time to time. I've been married for many, many years, and I have never felt such a keen affection for my husband as you so clearly do for my daughter.

Believe me, I know.

She's saving my life too.

Her acceptance speech was so elegant. It's such a prestigious award, and she holds herself with such poise and grace. It was lovely to hear her voice again. You're right. Hearing her talk is something of an experience. We definitely don't deserve to be thanked for anything Quinn is or has accomplished. She's achieved all she has, in spite of us.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Believe me, I know.

.

 **20 January 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry,

Oh, wow! A ring! That's news I wasn't expecting to hear today.

I have to admit, for a moment, I had a fleeting thought about society and appearances and Hell, and then I stopped thinking about it entirely. I've been speaking with Frannie - we talk about Quinn from time to time - and I think I'm going through some kind of cosmic shift in my worldly views. Frannie claims it's part of my delayed midlife crisis, which isn't funny at all. I'm not that old.

I'm still here. I haven't run away screaming at the idea of possibly being in-laws. In fact, I think Quinn has managed to find a truly special person to spend the rest of her life with. I wish you luck with the proposal, even though I'm certain you don't need it.

That ring is beautiful. She's going to love it.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I've referred.

.

 **12 February 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry,

I told you she would say yes. I don't know why you were so worried.

Frannie and I actually watched the Grammys together. She's visiting us in Lima with her twin boys, Brendan and Reese. They're turning four in April, and they're little devils. Quinn was with you at the ceremony, which was odd for Frannie and I to see. She looks so grown up. Of course, you both looked so beautiful. Well done on your win - as if it was ever in doubt. It was well deserved.

I hope you're enjoying Bali. You definitely look to be, from all the pictures.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Disclaimer noted.

.

 **7 March 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry,

Of course, Quinn would want to hear your voice always. You have a brilliant one.

I actually saw the ring she bought for you. Frannie forwarded me a Perez Hilton article on the first sight of the 'Berry' ring. It's a beautiful piece. My daughter has great taste. Well, she must, of course, because she's chosen you, hasn't she?

August is a good month for a wedding. Quinn's father and I were married in December. It was close enough to Christmas to be uncomfortable, but my mother insisted. We didn't have a long engagement either. I think everyone was just eager for a Fabray heir as soon as possible. I think, as long as you do what you and Quinn want to, everything will work out for the best. The planning really is the fun part, though. And, I suppose, the honeymoon too.

It amazes me that Quinn is actually getting married. My baby girl is getting married.

The way you talk about her is astounding. It's almost unbelievable, and I have to remind myself that you're talking about my daughter.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Yes. I would reply in an instant if you gave me the opportunity. I would send you all these emails I've been writing and, hopefully, see where things go, but I accept your decision to wait. It's not yet time. I don't think any of us is ready.

.

 **25 June 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry,

I remember you mentioned she suffers through those moments, yes. I'm sorry those days even exist, and I hate the role I've played in bringing them into life.

No, you didn't mention you have two fathers. And, I think it sounds perfect that you'll each have someone who loves you to walk you down the aisle. It's a relief to me to know she's found people like you and your family to love her the right way and treat her the way she deserves. In religion, we are taught that love is supposed to cover a multitude of sins but, as human beings, we tend to pick and choose. We choose to be the judge and jury of another's actions and character and I have absolutely no excuses for that. I would never wish to insult you by trying.

I've never read Harry Potter.

No, you didn't mention you're half-Jewish either. And, I'm really not having a conniption. I think I've come to accept that you're getting married, regardless of where or who or what or when or how. My daughter is marrying a woman, and that's okay. It's taken me a long while to get to this point, and maybe I'm handling it better because I'm not actually seeing it. I don't know, but I'll keep you posted.

Quinn is a vegetarian? That's unbelievable. Of all the things you've told me, I find that to be the hardest to wrap my head around.

I actually tried the attached scramble recipe this morning. It was surprisingly really delicious. I think it's the red pepper flakes that actually make the dish.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I won't.

P.P.S. I didn't, for a second, entertain the idea that I would be invited to your wedding.

.

 **4 October 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

It's a good name you've got for yourself there. Congratulations on your marriage! I hope it's a happy, fruitful one! Frannie follows you on Instagram and she showed me a few pictures you posted about the festivities, but these ones you've sent are so much better. I always did love a candid shot. You both looked so beautiful.

And happy. That's the most important part.

Quinn's love for Vienna started when she was quite young. I think it's the art of it that resonates with her. A whole month in India? That must have been incredible. The pictures seem to agree. It looks as if you experienced every kind of weather.

She is real, yes.

I don't think it's weird at all to be worried about becoming a parent. I'm sorry to hear you don't have the best relationship with your mother. I suppose you and Quinn have that somewhat in common, but you'll be able to help each other, and that's the part that matters. There's no way to measure parenting success, I don't think.

Perhaps, maybe, you can see it in your child's eyes. If they're happy, you must be doing a decent job.

I sincerely hope Quinn didn't think of us at all on her wedding day. She deserved to be happy and light and in love.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I agree.

.

 **20 November 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Quinn's novel really is doing very well! I watched that interview on GMA, and you're right. She really knows how to work that red blazer, doesn't she? She's beautiful, and her brain is beautiful and you must be so proud of her. I know I am.

Good luck with the show! I've read the first reviews and it sounds like it's going to be a hit. Frannie and I have been talking, and we're considering making a trip into New York with the twins. Maybe we'll come see your show. Is it suitable for little rascals who can barely sit still? Maybe we'll just leave them at the hotel.

I actually really enjoy hearing about your friends and their lives. It settles some of my worries to know you and Quinn are surrounded by supportive, successful people who are there for you always. Particularly in such a large, busy city.

I don't think it makes you a bad person to want to reach your own levels of success, Rachel. I think it would have been weirder if you didn't feel a certain pressure to perform in the wake of the success of Quinn's book release. You said it yourself. You're both so passionate about your work, so it's almost inevitable.

Quinn can do everything, apparently.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I'll hold you to that.

.

 **17 December 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

We were there, yes. The show was wonderful. You were absolutely amazing. Frannie and I are still in awe at the sheer level of your talent. It's no wonder there's a lot of talk about a possible Tony.

Of course, I'm reading all these emails. I check my inbox every day, hoping for a new email from you.

Hi, Rachel. I'm Judy. I'm Quinn's mother. It's lovely to meet you.

I do know what you look like, and I'm not disappointed. Not at all. I think you are beautiful, inside and out, and my Quinn is a very lucky woman.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I hear you.

.

 **28 December 2019**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Happy holidays to you too, dear.

It's lovely to hear you're having such a family-filled holiday in New York. I'm currently in Sacramento visiting Frannie, her husband and the twins. It's supposed to be a real family affair, but Ashley (Frannie's husband) is working so much that we barely see him.

I suppose spending time apart from your spouse won't be fun at all. Especially early on in the relationship. When you've been married for a while, as I have, you almost want to be away from them from time to time. Speaking of, right now, Quinn's father is in Austen visiting his brother and his brother's wife's family. I opted not to go with. Frannie is the only family I can stand to be around from both sides.

I used to be better at it, you know? I used to be able to play the role of dutiful wife and socialite, but I can't seem to stomach it these days. I keep thinking about you and about Quinn and how she's managed to escape this life. Frannie moved right across the country to get away, but the effects of social pressures to be a certain type of wife to Ashley and a particular kind of mother to the boys is telling. She's always been a bit of a free spirit, following the wind whichever way it takes her, and I worry. I worry so much.

That's a lovely card, Rachel. You all look so happy, and Noah does remind me of a marshmallow. (Though, I'm unable to figure out exactly why.)

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I actually was hoping for a Christmas miracle, yes.

.

 **6 May 2020**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I was starting to think I would never hear from you again. I'm sorry to hear about how life has been lately. I don't think you should feel guilty about needing Quinn and letting her be exactly what you need during your recovery. You do come first, and it's important you both acknowledge that.

I've been worried about you two, of course. Frannie and I keep tabs on you guys through your social media, but you've both been surprisingly dark lately, and I suppose this explains why. It's good to hear you're back on the mend. Your health will always come first.

I loved reading your update on your friends. Just the idea of Santana and Brittany and their extended engagement is amusing. I think it's brave of Kurt to embark on another endeavour, and it's wonderful that he feels comfortable enough with your collective support to do so.

Oh, wow. Noah is married? I think I can believe it. He seems like the type of man to know a good thing when he sees it. Your matchmaking skills are clearly exceptional.

My marriage. Well, it hasn't been a good one for quite some time, dear. Since before Quinn left. Probably ever since Frannie graduated from high school. I know now that I definitely didn't choose correctly. Picking to stay with Quinn's father over following after my daughter will forever be a decision that haunts me, and I'm unsure how to go about rectifying that.

I'm in the process of doing what I can to be happy as well.

Noah and Meghan's reception looked lovely. There's just something about the love shining in all your eyes that forces a person to stop and pay attention.

You have a wonderful family.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I'm going to try.

.

 **15 July 2020**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I didn't think it, but I actually CAN believe that Quinn would get invited to speak at Cambridge. I've read 'Bigger Than My Body' three times now, and it gets better and better every time. With every read, I pick up more and more of the story, and the nuances of her writing are astounding. It's opened my eyes to the idea of a 'people.' I live a relatively secluded life here in Lima. My friends - if you could call them that - are mainly my husband's coworkers' wives, which is... sad. There's this constant competition and desire to one-up one another. It's exhausting.

For so long, Quinn was a topic of conversation in our social circle, and I still recall the way they used to curl their mouths in disgust. It hurt back then, and I get angry just thinking about it now. I could never bring myself to defend her, and I hate myself for it. 'Bigger Than My Body' has shown me how important it is to find good people. I'm still searching.

Yes, I do think people say the first year of marriage is one of the hardest. I can barely remember mine. But, then again, I ended up pregnant with Frannie in the first six months. We barely had time to adjust to each other properly before we had to adjust to a baby. I think it's good that you and Quinn are waiting to start your family, just enjoying the two of you before you start considering children.

It always makes my day to learn you're doing better.

Congratulations to Santana! That's quite the achievement, and you and Quinn must be so proud (free medical advice). I wish her luck with her internship and residency.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Okay.

.

 **25 August 2020**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I think there's a thing that children say these days along the lines of TMI.

Happy anniversary to you both!

I watched the talk, and, everything you've ever said about her when she's in her element is correct. The way her face is just so much lighter and she seems so at ease and relaxed. It's absolutely beautiful to witness.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Celebrate away, dear.

.

 **30 November 2020**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I believe it's a Fabray trait to avoid talking about the things that clearly need to be spoken about. It's the type of home Quinn was raised in, so do try not to hold it against her. I think it's admirable that she wants to stay with you instead of going on her tour. Don't push yourself too hard, dear. Remember, your health is the priority. Quinn understands that. Let her make the sacrifices. It's what you do for the people you love.

I say that, even though I've failed my own daughter so many times. Even today, I continue to fail her.

That Thanksgiving turkey looks divine. It's got a good colour.

Quinn really is a talented cook, isn't she? She used to help in the kitchen sometimes. More so when she was Lucy, and I think, looking back, that she was just seeking attention. She was independent beyond measure, and I think I tended to forget that she was still an impressionable young woman. I should have paid closer attention.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I agree.

.

 **23 December 2020**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Oh, dear. I'm sorry to hear the anxiety reared its ugly head. I had high hopes you would be able to handle it, but it's okay that you couldn't. Sometimes, you just need a little help. I'm sure Quinn enjoys being home with too. Really, you're probably just giving her an excuse to do exactly what she wants to.

I didn't used to think this, but I believe you're right. Everyone should be in therapy. I'm considering bringing it up to Quinn's father, so we'll see how that goes.

I'm having a wonderful holiday season. Frannie and the twins are here in Lima with me while Ashley is working in Sacramento and Quinn's father is in Austen once more. I don't know what it says about our respective marriages when we're spending Christmas apart (and enjoying it).

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I can understand that.

.

 **17 March 2021**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I had no idea it was that bad. Quinn did seem to struggle a lot in high school but, like I said, as Fabrays, we would never discuss it. Mental health wasn't a priority. It didn't project the correct image to suffer in that way. I wonder how different our lives would be if we'd sought professional help to deal with Quinn's coming out. It pains me to know she's still struggling with the aftermath of our actions. Or lack thereof.

No, I didn't know about the accident.

I don't even know what to say.

Against your advice, I read the article. I can't even fathom how difficult that must have been for all of you. My heart hurts at the thought that my baby girl was in the hospital and I wasn't even called. I can't wrap my head around the idea that Quinn could have been lost to this world and I wouldn't have even been told. I could have gone my entire life and not known. God.

I can understand why all of this would cause you increased anxiety, and maybe Dr Monroe is right to address it, even if he is a bit of a bastard about it. It has to be faced, and I wish you a speedy and painless resolution.

She really does love Vienna, doesn't she?

Do you think she asks for your love the way she does because we were unable to give it to her? I think about that a lot. It's the second time you've mentioned that she doesn't ask you for things, and I wonder if that's been ingrained in her from childhood. Asking for what you wanted was frowned upon in this house. We never exchanged terms of affection. We never hugged or told one another that we loved each other. This house held no emotion, and I worry that it's translated into adulthood.

I hope you tell her you love her every day.

I would, if I could.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. You're right.

.

 **29 October 2021**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Wow! You two sound as if you've been busy making magic in Vienna. It has been a while, but I've been able to keep tabs on you both. I'm getting all the highlights of your wonderful European adventure through all your social media posts. I even feel as if I know Artie and Tina already.

Congratulations on the Tony wins, by the way. It's absolutely incredible what you've managed to achieve, and so young! There's still so much more you're going to do. This is all just the beginning. Your lives are just starting.

Quinn does have a knack for finding and creating beautiful things. It's not wildly obscene that her skills would extend into the music industry. I sometimes forget she was a part of her high school's Glee Club. It was a rather unFabray thing to participate in, but I think it was the one thing she really did for herself. She seemed to enjoy it the most of all her other activities.

Of course, it's a secret that Quinn would be featured on your album. Who would I tell? Well, except for Frannie, but she doesn't really count, does she?

I'm really glad to hear Vienna has been kind to you and your state of mind. I think everyone needs a break once in a while, just to take a moment to breathe. I'm thinking I'm going to go on a trip of my own, maybe take Frannie with me. Is it sad that my closest friend is my daughter who lives right across the country? I think it is.

I loved every single one of these videos.

And your new single sounds amazing. I can't wait for the new album to come out.

I get that. Quinn has always exuded a sense of confidence, protection and safety. I felt an intrinsic loss of it when she left for good. I could feel her loss everywhere. Sometimes, I still do.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Do you really think so?

.

 **17 January 2022**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Is it part of being a parent that makes me have the almost irrepressible urge to fly to Vienna as well? I'll come with your fathers and we can figure out the right course of action to take regarding Quinn's health. I can't even imagine how scary it must be for you being in a foreign country with your wife in the hospital. Just know I'm sending you lots of love and prayers. Quinn is going to be fine. She's too stubborn for anything to happen without her say-so.

She looks so small in that picture, or are hospital beds just a little larger in Vienna?

Quinn is truly a talented author. I've already purchased her new book, and I do agree that it's some of her best work.

My pre-order of your album is already in place, and now we wait. I'm excited about this one.

Please let me know how she's doing and when you're back in the States.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. I think it's best too.

.

 **15 June 2022**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

If I weren't following you on social media, I think I probably would have periled from my own worry in the time since your last email. I was so worried, Rachel, and it surprised me that it wasn't solely directed at Quinn. It was for you both, and I've been trying to figure out exactly what that means for the lot of us.

That is good news. I think you were both more comfortable with your familiar doctors. Is this the first time she's had complications?

That's lucky that Kurt and Marcus were able to do that for you. I imagine it must be a relief to be able to travel together and still be working at the same time. As for Columbus, we visited it as a family a handful of times when the girls were young. It's the closest commercial airport to Lima, but I can't remember Quinn ever truly showing any interest in it. It could have happened after she left, I don't know. There are a lot of things I don't know.

Thank you for the book. I picked it up today, and I think it's one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. Truly, thank you. I barely even recognise Quinn's handwriting.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Here it is: thank you.

.

 **16 June 2022**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I did hear you were both in Lima. It was all anyone could talk about when I visited the grocery store earlier today. Even though Quinn hates it here, Lima is still listed as her hometown on all the websites. I don't know how to feel about the fact that she hasn't shunned it the way it's shunned her.

I hate to admit that Quinn probably became a cheerleader only because of me and Frannie. I don't know if we consciously put pressure on her but she must have felt it, because it's obvious now, when I look back at it, that she didn't enjoy it at all. She wanted to be a writer from such a young age and, instead of nurturing her talent and protecting her dreams, I tried to stamp them out. Shame in myself is only one of the things I feel when I think about that.

You saw the house? That means you were right here. Quinn was right here. Wow.

I think you're right, Rachel. I think I need to get out as well.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Okay.

.

 **17 September 2022**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

It's not unfathomable that Quinn would attempt to avoid the conversation of starting your family by trying to find something else to busy herself with. Avoidance is one of those pesky Fabray traits that is just a part of our psyche. I've been working on mine for a little while now, and I think I'll have news for you about my life the next time you send an email.

She's a Doctor. That's amazing. I'm so proud. So, so proud. Frannie and I even toasted to her last night over Skype. Dr Berry-Fabray. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? But I'm sure you already know that.

I think 'Graceless' would make a wonderful film, but I can understand your apprehension. I think, maybe, the best thing to do is give her time. Let her come to you when she's ready. It can't be easy for her, and I think we both know how she'll react if you push too hard and too soon.

Your parents sound like a hoot. I did manage to catch a few glimpses of Brittany on _Dancing With the Stars_. She's an amazing dancer. Are you enjoying life with your two doctors? It's great that you're supporting Kurt the way you do. Ooh, another engagement. So much has been happening in your lives. I love it.

Los Angeles is close to Sacramento, you know? I think Frannie will like the idea of having Quinn so near, even if they don't see each other. Frannie's harboured quite a bit of guilt when it comes to Quinn. She confessed to me years later that Quinn called her when she first left the house, but Frannie didn't pick up. Quinn's father can be poisonous that way, and I know that Frannie would also like to apologise, if ever we get the chance. Do you think she would let us, Rachel? Would she want to hear anything we have to say?

'She's the One' is an amazing song - they play it in all the grocery stores - and I really had no idea Quinn had such a wonderful voice. Unfortunately, I must admit that I never attended any of Quinn's Glee performances, even when she asked. To this day, I still can't be sure exactly why I didn't. I've missed so much. I'm still missing so much.

Honestly, I don't know what my life would be like if you weren't sending me these emails.

You truly are a lucky woman. You both are.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. It's all right.

.

 **21 November 2022**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Communication is key in any relationship, and I'm glad that the two of you have finally talked about it. I'm taking a few pointers from you lovely ladies and making decisions and asking for what I want. You're probably the first person I'm telling, but you should know that I've left Quinn's father. Well, I asked him to leave. We're getting divorced, which is probably the best decision I've made in years. I intend to tell Frannie about it when they visit for Christmas. I don't know how she's going to take it, but I'm relieved and relaxed for what feels like the first time in so long.

I think you'll be pleased to know the house doesn't feel so cold anymore.

So, you two are thinking of embarking on another adventure, in LA this time? It's lovely to live vicariously through all of you, and get an inside look into show business. I can't wait for this movie to come out. I know it's going to be beautiful. Quinn wouldn't have anything less, I'm sure.

Silver Lake looks like a lovely neighbourhood to live in, and that house is gorgeous. You two really do seem to be doing well for yourselves. I'm sure the four of you are going to love living there together, just enjoying your youth and your work.

That sounds like a pretty neat project you've got for yourselves there. Are you looking for a house, an apartment or something else entirely in NY? Where are you looking?

I and all your other musical fans definitely want a third album. As soon as possible, preferably.

No, I don't imagine being a working mother is easy. I've been fortunate enough not to have to find out for myself. Quinn's father has family money, and he didn't want me to work once the children arrived. I don't think either of you would ask that of the other. You're both too dedicated to your trade to be happy without it. You're creative beings. It has to be released some way.

Regards,  
Judy Fabray

P.S. Not today.

.

 **16 April 2023**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

It's so good to hear you're all enjoying life in LA. I've been following your escapades on social media, and it looks like a blast, even though you're both working so hard. Yes, Quinn has always been susceptible to a good sunburn. The summer months can be hard on her.

I can't even tell you how excited I am to watch 'Graceless.' I always have this urge to tell everyone I meet that Quinn Fabray is my daughter, but I'm forced to stop myself. I don't deserve to make a claim to her. Not when I allowed her to leave this house and never return.

No, I've never watched _American Horror Story_. Frannie claims I'm probably too young (at heart) for it. Still, I'll be sure to watch your episodes when they air. Quinn is right. I am a huge _Grey's_ fan, and Frannie sent me the TVLine article about your character's storyline. I'm looking forward to meeting Dr Sawyer Claudio. It's wonderful that you'll be on the silver screen. I get to see more of you.

Generally, life is like that, yes. It's definitely whom you know. People have to help the people.

Those all sound like lovely neighbourhoods to live in. I'm sure, between the two of you, you'll decide on the perfect one. Now that I'm officially divorced and back to my maiden name, I've gone back to work. I actually have a job in real estate. Can you believe it? I had to go through quite a spiel to get certified again, but I'm enjoying it. It's given me more of a purpose beyond my family, and I'm even making friends with some of the other agents.

This is what your emails have done for me, Rachel. I thank you every single day, because my life has become infinitely better ever since your name popped up in my inbox.

I definitely wouldn't bet against Quinn going back to school. The classroom tends to call to her, and she's never been able to resist listening.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. You're right.

.

 **20 June 2023**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Wow! That's a beautiful home you two have purchased for yourselves. I can see why Quinn was initially drawn to it. I can just picture you growing your family in there. You must be relieved and excited and all those other positive feelings that come with investing in your future.

My dear, do you tell Quinn these things? Do you tell her what you want from your life? Your careers will always come after your relationship and your lives together. Quinn knows that, and you shouldn't feel guilty for missing her or asking her to stay. Working hard and being famous; I know none of it is easy. Just talk to each other. Communication is key, remember?

Learn from me, okay?

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Maybe we can, yes.

.

 **2 September 2023**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I did hear the news! Congratulations on your first role in a film! It's all so terribly exciting. I don't doubt for a second that you made an impression. You earned that role yourself, and I'm immensely proud of you. Both of you.

It seems you're going to be plenty busy these next few months (movies seem to be a lot of hard work). I bet you're looking forward to visiting all those foreign cities. I see Kurt managed to convince you to go. I'm sure you're going to enjoy it. London is lovely, and so is Paris. I went to Rome when I was still in high school, but I've never visited Barcelona or Tokyo. Make sure to take lots of pictures.

I imagine you definitely weren't happy to miss your anniversary, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. It's not a sign of things to come. Sometimes, in life, these things can't be helped. You're both busy and some dates will be missed. The fact that you're both so determined to make it up to each other is the most important thing, I think.

Yes, your wife is definitely kind of pretty to look at.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I agree.

.

 **3 September 2023**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

That's amazing. I'm quite the fan of Sandra Bullock. Her performance in _The Blind Side_ was simply phenomenal, and I find myself going back to that movie more often than I'd like to admit. I think something about her strength as a MOTHER resonates with me. I'm sure you're going to learn a lot from working with her.

You look like you're having a blast in Barcelona. Stay safe.

I think it's safe to say you're famous all over the world, Rachel.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I'll be waiting.

.

 **4 October 2023**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

You're a bona fide movie star now. I don't know why but I just have this feeling about this movie. It's going to be a good one, Rachel. It's going to be amazing. With you and Quinn both on the project, I think it's a given, isn't it?

I'm glad you two are actually getting to have this new experience together, even if it's in different capacities. You're both learning and growing into your new roles in the film industry, and it's a relief to me to know that neither of you is doing it alone. It's amazing what knowing you have support can do for a person.

Wow. That's quite the cast you've got there. No, it doesn't make me uncomfortable to hear that you find women attractive (though, I imagine Quinn would have a bit to say about that). I think I've grown, somewhat, in the years we've been doing this, and I've come to accept that my daughter is gay. It's taken me a long time, I'm ashamed to admit, but I feel settled within myself enough to know it's the truth, and I love her regardless. One day, I hope to tell her.

I think you're right, Rachel. You tell me things about my daughter all the time, and I always seem to struggle with imagining the Quinn I knew doing and saying those things. I don't think I knew her at all. Or, I saw the things I wanted to see and ignored all the things I didn't. If I noticed Quinn skipping a few meals or disappearing straight after dinner, then I made no comments and took no action. It's just another thing on the long list of things I'm ashamed of, and for which I have to apologise.

Even I have to admit that Brittany Snow gives Quinn a run for her money. I think it's the eyes.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. No, you haven't.

.

 **4 January 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Happy New Year to you too!

It's good to hear from you. I've been following along, and it looks as if you're really enjoying your time in LA. I love hearing stories about your time on set, and CONGRATULATIONS on the Emmy. Frannie and I watched the ceremony together over Skype, and I am so proud of you.

It is, indeed. Just one more to go, and the EGOT is yours.

Quinn always has been a fan of learning. I feel immensely relieved to know you're both gaining as much as you possibly can from this new experience. I think that's the point of your youth; to learn and take it all in. Particularly if you have Sandra Bullock of all people passing on advice. I think, like you, I can't wait for the film to come out in September either.

You definitely deserve some couple time, Rachel. Especially in your new home. Though, it's understandable that your friends have missed you while you've been away, and of course they would want to spend as much time with you as possible. Oh, yes. Wedding planning can be stressful, and I'm definitely sympathetic to both you and Kurt. And Blaine, I suppose. All of you, really. But it'll be worth it in the end, as I'm sure you are already aware.

Your acceptance speech was beautiful. And so true.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Unfortunately, I have to agree.

.

 **19 January 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

'Kurt Hummel' designs some beautiful dresses, and it's wonderful that you support him during your Awards' season. I don't have a doubt in my mind that you're going to win yourself another Grammy, Rachel. Your music speaks volumes and isn't shy to show your views on life and love and family. 'She's the One' is probably one of my favourite songs, and the fact that it's a Berry-Fabray brainchild makes it all the more special. The rest of the world HAS to recognise that.

I'm definitely watching this space, and good luck to you all!

Quinn does wear the colour green well.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I think so, too.

.

 **30 January 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

YOU WON!

Of course, I saw it. Of course, I was watching. Well, yes, I did see my daughter, and her speech was elegant and wonderful. It was amazing and congratulations to all of you. You, Quinn, Artie and Tina made a spectacular album, and you all deserve the accolades that come with such a glorious achievement.

I've been watching these videos all day. As funny as it was, I'm immensely relieved Artie didn't actually end up rolling off the stage.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Go, dear. Celebrate away.

.

 **6 March 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

We both knew Quinn would end up surprising you. It was a wise decision to wait for her to come to you about starting your family and, honestly, this is great news. I'm so excited for you both as you embark on this journey. I've never really been privy to how same-sex couples go about having children, and I'm definitely invested in your success. I will always say yes to another grandchild, whichever one of you carries the baby.

You're going to be parents.

I think about it a lot, Rachel. For the longest time, I stopped myself from imagining what her life was like. I didn't want to think she was happy or sad because I didn't want to acknowledge the role I played if either of those things were true. I realise, through her writing and through you, that our senseless actions have affected her in ways I cannot begin to understand. Nor would I wish to, because it feels as if it would be insulting to Quinn. And you, I suppose.

I know it means very little now, after all these years, but I no longer believe your love is wrong. There's a man I work with at the agency, Terrence, who has never been shy about his sexuality. He talks about his husband and their two children with ease, but he explained to me that it's not always easy. Especially in a town like Lima. He's one of the only people I've confessed to about the way I handled things with Quinn. I thought for sure he would hate me because I sometimes hate myself, but he was oddly understanding. I think, in his eyes, the fact that I can have a conversation with him and see only HIM speaks volumes for how far I've come since that fateful day.

Your love is not wrong. It can't be. Anyone who would even begin to doubt the love you have for Quinn is, most assuredly, blind.

I cried when I watched her graduation video you attached. It was an ugly cry, Rachel. I'm just so proud, and she's so beautiful. Your wife is a doctor.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I can imagine.

.

 **4 June 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

You're having a baby! This is the greatest news I could have received today, or any day. Congratulations to you both! Wow. You must be so happy and excited and WOW.

I imagine Quinn must be having some strange cravings. I was the same way. I think I went through something like thirty jars of pickles during the first trimester when I was pregnant with her. You should tell her to enjoy having the baby with her at all times. It's quite an adjustment when the nine months are over.

I've read a few of those reviews about your new show. I was already thinking about it before your email and I don't know if I'll be able to, but I will do my best to make plans to come out and see it as soon as I can. I'll have to check with Frannie and see how her schedule looks.

Not to put a dampener on your amazing news, but it seems that Frannie and her husband are going to be separating. She recently learnt that he's been having an affair with his secretary for months, and she's having none of it. Frannie and the boys are actually coming to spend the summer with me here in Lima.

No, I wouldn't dream of trying to see Quinn until you or she tells me she's ready for anything like that.

I don't think she'll hate you for these emails, Rachel. I think she'll be confused and hurt and maybe feel a little betrayed, but she loves you. I don't think you have to worry about that. She'll be angry at first, maybe say a few things she doesn't mean, but she'll come back to you and you'll explain and she'll understand. I just hope, if ever she does find out, that it's because you're the one who's telling her about it and not because she found out some other way.

I hope, one day, I will get to meet your baby.

I did hear. I'm going to be a grandmother.

She looks beautiful in that picture. It's clear to see she's excited by the pregnancy test results. Hold onto that, Rachel. Hold onto all of it. Live and love through every single moment. Embrace it all. Enjoy it.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Okay.

.

 **10 August 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Oh, dear. I can only imagine what it's like to deal with a pregnant Quinn Berry-Fabray. I'm sure it's a daily test of your patience.

I can see how you could feel that way about living near your parents, yes. I'm afraid to break it to you but, once a parent, always a parent. I think you'll understand it a bit better when your little one arrives.

A girl. You're having a girl.

She looks, well, like a baby in that sonogram, and I'm so happy to hear she's healthy. And, oddly, very cute.

See? Blessings to be found in all corners.

I reckon it is turning into the best year, indeed.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. One day soon, indeed.

.

 **25 September 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Believe me, I know the movie's out. I've had a countdown running for months now. Terrence, his husband and I actually went to see it last night and, I must say, I cried throughout the entire thing. The story is beautiful and you are so beautiful. The way it's written and put together, and that song; I was just a balling mess, and Terrence was unsure how to handle me. I am so proud of you both.

Oh, definitely. I tell everyone I meet to go out and see it.

I think it's safe to say you're BOTH taking the world by storm.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I think it's admirable you're being so supportive of Quinn, even though it can't be easy celebrating all this success without the champagne.

.

 **14 November 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

That's understandable. You're both so busy these days, but I'm glad to hear you're finding time to make plans for the baby's arrival. You're about to become parents. These are going to be the most exciting days of your lives.

But Christmas weddings are lovely, aren't they? As I mentioned, Quinn's father and I were married in mid-December, so, maybe I'm not one to talk. As difficult as you're probably finding it all, I'm sure your friends appreciate it.

Baby B-F is a lovely, temporary name, and that list is quite telling. I quite like the name Lily. I think, maybe, if we didn't call Quinn Lucy after her grandmother; she might have been a Lily. Though, I'll have to say that the name probably wouldn't suit her now. She's definitely a Quinn. I can't see her as anyone else.

That's a good routine to have. Hearing both your voices is important for all parties involved.

The nursery looks perfect. I love the idea that you're putting it together by yourselves. It's an important thing, some kind of right of passage, and I think your daughter will appreciate it when she's older. This IS the life you get to live, and you're obviously living it rather well.

As for Quinn's book, I already have it. I just started it, but it's already such powerful writing. I didn't quite remember how I felt becoming a mother - it was just expected after marriage, and I didn't ever actually decide I was ready - so it's both troubling and enlightening to read about Quinn's thoughts behind deciding she's ready to be a parent. Particularly given our lack of relationship.

I think, by now, I'd like to learn everything I can about Quinn, whether I'm prepared for it or not.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. You keep saying that, dear.

.

 **26 December 2024**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Happy holidays to all of you as well!

Congratulations to the newlyweds! It looks like it was a wonderful day of love and family and friends. If I recall correctly, Quinn claims you still have some years to go before you get Santana and Brittany down the aisle.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I sure do hope so.

.

 **25 January 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Patience, my dear. Baby B-F will come out in her own time. Like Quinn. She was late to join the world as well, and the doctors were planning to induce. I think she was just taking her time, deciding when she was truly ready. Your baby is probably doing the same thing. Don't worry too much about it.

I've been following all the hype about the movie. Congratulations on all the wins, truly! I get chills every time someone talks about it, or about you or even Quinn. I am so proud; I barely even know what to do with myself. I think Anna is right. This is going to be yours. That Oscar already has your name on it.

I find that I can't wait for your next email. You'll be a mother then. Well, now, I'm somewhat impatient too.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I believe that to be true.

.

 **31 January 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

She's here.

I cried. I'm crying right now, actually. Charlotte Lily is a lovely name. She is absolutely beautiful, Rachel. She's perfect. They both are. I constantly catch myself staring at the pictures you sent. I want to share them with the world - I won't, don't worry, dear - and scream from the rooftops that my first granddaughter is here!

I would love for you to call me Judy.

Rachel, you are everything Quinn could ever need or want. I know you know that.

Dear, they are the most precious things on earth. (I'm STILL crying.)

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I can feel it too.

.

 **18 February 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I'll have you know that I was at work when I read your email, and I actually laughed out loud at the thought that you wanted to put Charlotte back. I even released a decidedly un-ladylike snort, so thank you for that. And, no, you can't put her back. It's just your exhaustion talking. I know you don't mean it.

Give it time, dear. You'll learn and grow into motherhood, and you have Quinn there to help you. It's a two-person job, truly (perhaps more) and I take my hat off to those single parents out there. Now, they are magic.

That's a good idea. Sleep when Charlotte sleeps. It'll get you very far.

I think I cry every time I see a picture of her. I also think I should stop reading your new emails while I'm at work.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Thank you for doing that.

.

 **2 March 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I'm sure this first month with Charlotte has just flown by. Adjusting to all the changes must have been trying, but it seems things are settling down. I imagine Quinn does spend most of her time exhausted. Feeding an entire human being can take quite a bit out of you.

I can't even explain to you how grateful I am to be hearing about your lives. I appreciate it more than you can ever know.

Oh, wow. That sound clip was definitely a shock. You're right, though. She does have a strong set of lungs.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Catch a nap, dear.

.

 **5 March 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Oh, my God!

You should know that I almost fell right off the couch when they called Quinn's name. I thought it would be the extent of my tears, but I burst out crying when they said 'And the Oscar goes to Rachel Berry.' The EGOT has landed, indeed. This is such a wonderful achievement. I have no words even to express to you just how proud I am. Of both of you. Of all of you. Of the entire movie. You cleaned out all the awards, and you've brought light to a very real social issue: acceptance of oneself and of others.

I don't imagine it's been easy at all to reach your level of success in both your professional and personal life. You are doing what you were born to do, and there's a lot to admire about choosing to follow your passions. Your dreams are coming true, and it's because of all your hard work and determination.

Relationships are hard enough without all this added pressure, I know. Marriage is difficult, but you obviously love each other and you're both determined for it to work. I think that's more than most people can say. Getting through the bad times makes the good times even more worth it. Savour them. Embrace them.

Oh, no. It must be difficult for you to be away from Charlotte, even if it's for a short time. I bet you can't wait to get back to NY.

You did it.

YOU DID.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. You did mention it, yes. And, even when you don't explicitly tell me you're happy; I can read it in every word you say.

.

 **29 June 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

It has been a little while, indeed. It's so good to hear from you, dear. I imagine your life is absolutely wonderful, marvelling in all the new and exciting things Charlotte does every single day. Routine is always good. It helps not only her, but the two of you as well.

Oh, I can just imagine how excited Quinn was to see her roll over. That video is just so precious. I think I've watched it a hundred times. I even saved it to my desktop, so I don't have to go searching through files to bring it up.

Hah. We always knew Quinn would eventually go back to school. The pull is too great.

I think that's an apt description of Quinn, dear. She's a fine wine, indeed.

Oh my. That projectile vomit went everywhere. I can see why Quinn wouldn't want anyone to see this particular video. I must thank you. The world thanks you.

I am SO proud. Your family - my daughter's family - is everything and so much more.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. It's okay.

.

 **14 September 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I can't imagine it's been easy for Quinn going back to school and being away from you both, and it really is cute how much she misses you both throughout the day. I'm sure you and Charlotte miss her just as much.

Changing diapers HAS to be the best part of having children, yes. It's closely followed by spit-up.

Do you really think Brittany and Santana will finally make it down the aisle this year? I assume, if they're happy and comfortable, it shouldn't matter if they are married. As long as they remain committed to each other, the piece of paper doesn't matter. Though, I assume their families want a big wedding. Their friends too.

Just hearing about the lot of you growing up and growing your families makes me feel like proud a mama bear. I feel as if I know all of you, and I'm so invested in all your happiness. I want Noah and Meghan to return to New York too, and I want Kurt and Blaine to have the family they want. I want you all to be together, as well.

I hope to be one of those people too, Rachel. One day, when you think it's time, I'll be on the first flight out.

This lullaby is wonderful and perfect, and Charlotte is absolutely going to adore it when she's old enough to know what it all means. I've been listening to it on repeat for the last few days. I think I should stop before I end up ruining it for myself.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. One day.

.

 **22 December 2025**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Happy holidays to you too, dear! It's always lovely to hear from you, and it's good to see you're enjoying the festivities. The first Christmas with your kids is always a special one. I think you shouldn't feel guilty about wanting to spoil your daughter (even if she definitely won't remember anything).

Oh, wow. I don't think you're going to turn into THOSE parents. I think the two of you have done really well to stay grounded and true to yourselves, which means you're going to be able to raise a bright, well-rounded young woman. Definitely not a spoilt brat.

I think you and Quinn would be lucky if you ended up with a daughter like yourself.

I printed out and framed the picture of 'Santa's Little Helper.' It's currently up on the wall of my house. It's probably my favourite picture of Charlotte in existence.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Quinn probably, definitely, will laugh.

.

 **4 February 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

The first year with your kid definitely is the hardest. I had many friends who had their marriages fall apart because of the lack of sleep and general stress of being new parents. I'm sure therapy would have helped them, and I'm glad that you and Quinn are keeping an eye on that.

I don't think anyone would begrudge you your desire to get back to work. A year is a long time, and your creative side must be itching for an outlet. As a fan, I definitely would like to see another album.

It's hard to imagine Charlotte's already a year old. Time seems to have flown by, and she looks so big in those pictures you sent. Thank you for them. I keep printing them out and putting them up all over the house. I want all my grandchildren to be represented in my home.

Babies learning how to walk truly are the cutest things. Frannie was a bit of a late bloomer in that regard, but Quinn couldn't wait to get going. I've done a lot of chasing in my years, and I imagine it must be exhausting for you and Quinn. Painful for the back as well.

Laugh away, I say. Your kids are supposed to be good for entertainment. Why else do we have them?

I picked up Quinn's book. Well, of course, I pre-ordered it, and I've been reading it non-stop. You're right when you say it's different. With everything else, you could feel the disjoint. Before, she was writing as Lucy Quinn, but 'Letters to Our Daughter' feels like Quinn. I feel like I learn more and more about her with every new work she releases.

In fact, I DO know how difficult it is to get icing out of hair. It's a thankless task.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Quinn was very cute as a child, but I don't think anyone is as adorable as Charlotte.

.

 **19 April 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Little kids have reserves of energy unheard of, I know. When Quinn was little, Frannie used to come up with these adventures for her to go on to tire her out, because I do think we might have put a gigantic hamster wheel in the backyard for her, otherwise. She just had endless energy and she was so restless. It seems Charlotte has inherited that.

Quinn is in Ohio? Sometimes, I think I should feel it. I should be able to tell that my daughter is so close, but I can never tell. Maybe it's because I haven't seen her in so long, but the idea that I just don't KNOW hurts in a way it definitely shouldn't.

I can't imagine having Quinn gone is easy for you or Charlotte. Or Quinn, really. The first time being away from one another can be stressful, and it's a relief to know you're talking to Dr Monroe about it.

I know I talk about the advantages of therapy a lot, which is why I decided to seek some myself. I've been seeing Dr Allen for a few weeks now, and he's helped me come to terms with my marriage, my divorce, my new life and my daughters. We talk about Quinn quite a bit, and I think I'm almost ready. Do you think you are?

'Hold It Down' sounds like it's going to be a complete hit. I've had the melody stuck in my head all day.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. One day, I'll help you explain it all to Charlotte. I think it'll be important for her to understand that there are people who won't be accepting of her family (if only in the beginning), and those people can exist in her own family. It'll be a truth she'll unfortunately have to learn, which is something I know you and Quinn have already considered. I want to help with that.

.

 **3 July 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Hello, Seattle!

Oh, my. That sounds like a ferry trip to forget, but I think it's good that you want to take Charlotte back. Facing her fears immediately will do her well in the future. I assume Quinn would know a little bit about that.

I'm having a good summer, yes.

It's always been a little upsetting to me to hear about how stressful it is for Quinn to return to Ohio, and I'm glad it seems to be getting better. I think only time has been able to help with that. I'm proud of her for it, as well.

You all look so happy on the ferry. It's hard to imagine it went south so quickly after it was taken.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. No, I've never been to Seattle. We'll go back one day.

.

 **18 July 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

I did see you, yes.

I can't tell if I'm disappointed or relieved that Quinn didn't see me. Still, it's for the best. I might be ready, but I can't be sure she is. Is she, Rachel? Will she ever be?

They are beautiful, Rachel. You truly have a beautiful family.

You and me both. I saw you, and I don't know what to make of it either.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I understand.

.

 **24 August 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Disneyland! Wow. Charlotte must be loving that. If there's one way to exhaust your kid; it's letting her loose is Fantasyland. It must be nice to have her sleep through the night, and you must be loving that. I think this is the most you've attached for me. Someone was rather trigger-happy with that camera while you were on holiday, huh?

I think, by now, you've just accepted that Quinn is probably the rudest person you'll meet. That's my daughter, yes.

Happy anniversary, dear. I hope you and Quinn have a wonderful evening tonight.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Agreed.

.

 **18 September 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

It's good to know all that success isn't going to your heads. I've been reading Quinn's new book while listening to your new album on repeat. I think my favourite song is 'Golden.' There's just such a natural tempo to it and the lyrics are beautiful. I checked the CD's booklet, and it says you wrote the lyrics yourself. It's so open and true and raw, and yet hidden behind an upbeat melody. Frannie claims that it's 'trippy.' Though, I have no idea what that means.

I can't imagine the success has been easy to deal with in that regard, particularly with Charlotte. From what I've seen about the paparazzi, they can be relentless, so I hope you're looking after yourselves and one another.

A world tour, you say? That's exciting, even if you and Quinn are going to have to spend some time apart. This is a huge step in your career, and I'm sure you're going to enjoy every second of it. Especially when you have all that support around you.

The Bearded Dragons? I think this is the first time you've mentioned Noah's band's name. I'll be sure to give them a listen as soon as possible. Is it rock music? It's not my favourite genre, unfortunately.

I made the mistake of reading your email at work (even though I told myself I wouldn't) and I actually squealed when I read that Noah and Meghan are expecting. If I get fired, it'll be our collective fault. The family is growing, and I'm sure you're all so excited. I know I am.

Congratulations to Santana on passing her Boards. I wouldn't have guessed she would go the Cardio route, but I'm not surprised. If Charlotte does end up following in her footsteps, I think all of you could do worse. You're all giving her wonderful female role models, and you should all be proud of yourselves.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I can assure you that I have all your albums in my collection. As CDs and as Vinyls.

.

 **3 December 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Hello, Omaha!

I'm definitely making plans to see the show. Frannie's managed to get tickets for Sacramento, so I'm going to fly out there and we're all going to go together. Don't worry. We'll steer clear of the meet-and-greets. You're not ready, it seems, and I've vowed to be patient, as difficult as it seems to be getting these days.

The family's planning for another baby? I imagine Kurt and Blaine must be over the moon with excitement at taking that step. The thought of either you or Quinn being surrogates didn't even cross my mind. I told you I didn't know all that much about this kind of thing, but I'm learning. I think it's noble of you both to have considered it, and I imagine it would be slightly weird having a child that you wouldn't get to raise. I had eighteen years with Quinn, and I still feel the debilitating pain of no longer having her in my life.

I agree. Quinn is the only person who could successfully adapt 'Wish I Never Met You' into a screenplay, and it's understandable that you're both apprehensive about it. Especially given what it would mean for you and your family.

I love this video. It's rare I get to see one with all three of you together. And, singing on stage, no less. It's almost like a dream.

This is your life, Rachel. Believe it.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Not quite.

.

 **28 December 2026**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

You're in D.C. now? I can barely keep up with all the cities you've been to. We saw you just last week in Sacramento, which was amazing, by the way. The show was so well put together and heartwarming and so beautiful. You speak with such a truth, and you sing with such warmth. It's obvious you love what you do, and it's so clear for all us fans to see. We FEEL it.

I think wanting to be happy in your future is as good a goal as any. When all this excitement dies down, you'll still have each other, which equates to happiness in your books, doesn't it?

Oh, I really do hope you have more children. I could do with a few more grandchildren, particularly when it looks as if Frannie seems to be closing up shop. The twins are such a handful, I'm certain she's been considering having her tubes tied since they were in the ferocious fours. You should be relieved you have a girl, is all I'm saying.

I had that family picture printed immediately. It's sitting on Frannie's mantlepiece right now, and we like to imagine we were there too.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Next time, indeed.

.

 **29 January 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

It's hard to imagine Charlotte is already two years old. I spent her birthday in a bit of a funk, if I'm being honest. Terrence had to take me out for lunch to distract me. I know I made my own decisions, and I'm trying to respect you and Quinn, but it hurts that I've never met her. I didn't think it would feel like this, and I may or may not have drowned my sorrows in a bottle of Merlot.

London, you say? Wow. It really is a full international tour, isn't it? I'm sure Charlotte is having a wonderful time, jet-setting and experiencing all these new things and new places and new people. She might not remember it all when she gets older, but you're raising a worldly human being there, Rachel. I don't think you should worry too much about overwhelming her.

Quinn is rather self-aware, yes. She was very much in control of herself and all her relationships in high school. I don't know if it was a conscious decision of hers, to keep everyone at arm's length, in an attempt to hide herself and her sexuality, but I'm sure that part of her has waned. The woman you describe is very different to the girl she was in high school.

Quinn did used to have a stuffed lamb. Frannie actually won it for her at a state fair we attended when the girls were little. Quinn adored it, and she carried 'Geoff' everywhere with her. Unfortunately, when she was eight, her father decided that she was too old to have what he referred to as a 'crutch' and he threw it out. She cried for three days straight. When I look back to that time, I truly think it was the start of our losing her. Out of all the ways I failed her, that is a huge regret of mine.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Maybe not.

.

 **9 March 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Wow, you're already in Prague! It's good to know you're all doing well, and that Quinn gets to be with you as often as she does. I'm sure you were worried about that. I was too, if I'm being honest. It eases my mind to know you're all together.

I imagine so, yes. The screenplay is important to her, and I wouldn't want her to give in to something she's not proud of. I think, one of the things I might have taught her, is that, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. She was raised to be a perfectionist, meticulous in every way and fiercely independent.

Would you actually have to go to LA again for the movie, if she gives it the green light? I imagine that's only if Quinn is as involved in this one as she was in 'Graceless,' right?

Yes, you'll see what happens.

Everyone should marry a personal lyricist, indeed. For convenience sake, of course.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. It's okay.

.

 **6 June 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Oh, my. I'm in tears. Baby Puckerman is so precious. Look at him. Look at how tiny he is. Noah looks so content. He's already fallen in love, hasn't he? You can see it in his eyes. He's going to be a great father, and congratulations to the new parents.

Good luck to them too. We both know they're going to need it.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. I have this feeling too.

.

 **21 July 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Just hearing that you've known Quinn for thirteen years throws the number of years it's been since she left right into the forefront of my mind. It's been a very long time, Rachel, and it really is funny the way time and life works. Do you think there will ever be a day you're ready? That Quinn is ready?

I actually agree with you. You and Quinn were definitely meant to meet. I can't imagine she could have found anyone more suited for her than you.

It's a testament to how you've grown as an individual, as a couple and as a family. Dreams change. The EGOT was one thing, and I'm sure achieving it has been sweet, but there is something magical about family. I didn't quite understand it before. My childhood was what it was. My marriage wasn't any better, and it was only later in life that I understood the importance of family. I've been lucky to get this chance with Frannie and the boys, and I intend to make it up to Quinn in every way possible. One day.

I barely even know what to say. It always catches me off guard the way you speak about Quinn and your love for her and what she means to you. It amazes me, and it makes me so proud that my shortcomings as a mother haven't stopped her from finding you and allowing herself to be loved the way she deserves.

Yes. Renew yours vows, please. Maybe I'll get to attend those.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. It's a good thing, Rachel. It has to be.

.

 **21 August 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Stability is always good, and I'm sure you're enjoying being in New York for so long. Your friends must have missed you all.

That's wonderful news! I'm sure the due date for Baby Anderson-Hummel can't come fast enough. Every new life you bring into this world is going to be showered with so much love and adoration. You're all so lucky to have one another as you all grow your families. The village.

They would definitely be idiots to say no to a Quinn Berry-Fabray screenplay. She's too brilliant, as you say, and I'm sure this film is going to be made.

I imagine it must be difficult just to do whatever you want to do, particularly with such recognisable faces. It seems you're getting creative. Extra creative, truly. That's an expensive anniversary present you're considering there, Rachel. A house in the Hamptons. Wow.

Oh yes, she's DEFINITELY going to go for the fourth house.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. No, our house doesn't have a spiral staircase, but the public library here in Lima does. She spent many days during her summers there, reading book after book and spending time with the librarian. I just remembered that the librarian's name was Lily. Wow.

.

 **18 October 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Wow, that was quick! You're already in your new home in the Hamptons? It does seem that you're living the life, Rachel. It sounds like a really good one. Enjoy it, dear. Enjoy your family and your life and your love.

Indeed, you HAVE finally made it, though I think you've known that for a while. You said it yourself: the success is just one thing, and the family is everything.

As is routine now, I've already printed that family picture, and it's sitting on my desk. I'm actually looking at it right now. You all look so happy, and I find myself rather envious. It's a feeling I've been experiencing lately, coupled with an unhealthy dose of impatience and desperation. It's time. I want it to be time, Rachel. Please let it be time.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. Quinn's never had a dog before. Her father would never allow us to get one.

.

 **26 November 2027**

Dear Rachel Berry-Fabray,

Oh, no. RIP Quinn's laptop. It seems like it was important to her, an extension of herself, so I can understand why she's as sad as she is. She's always been rather sentimental about various material things. She'll come through it in time.

I'm afraid it might be difficult to get her to agree to a replacement laptop so soon. She has to get it out of her system before she considers it.

Hah. I actually know what the Cloud is. Aren't you proud? And, yes, that is a relief. I imagine she would be borderline inconsolable if she actually lost any of her work.

Regards,  
Judy Spencer

P.S. She has always been like this, yes.

.

Well, that's all.

I want you to know that I've relished everything you've ever told me. I sincerely hope that choosing to give me this doesn't create the kind of problems with Quinn that you predicted. Time always helps, as you know. She loves you, and she'll understand. I promise she will.

Still, I have to say thank you again. Thank you for everything, Rachel.

Kindest regards,  
Judy Evelyn Spencer

P.S. I wish you all the best of lives and, if I don't hear from you again, know that I will carry you all in my heart. Take care, my dears.

* * *

.

* * *

"Wow."

Quinn hugs Rachel tighter, her eyes closing automatically and she murmurs, "I have a headache."

Rachel chuckles softly, sighing. "I have a _heart_ ache."

"I don't even know what to do with all that information," she says, pressing a kiss to Rachel's shoulder. "I feel as if everything I've ever known has been a lie or something akin to that."

Rachel turns slightly and kisses Quinn's cheek, leaving her lips pressed against the soft skin. "She cares about you," she whispers. "She loves you, Quinn. She wants to apologise to you. She wants to get to know you again; properly, this time."

Quinn closes her eyes. "What if I don't want those things?"

"Don't you?"

Quinn can't bring herself to respond to the question. "I was fine," she says.

"You don't owe her anything, Quinn."

"Don't I?"

As swiftly as she can, Rachel rises to her feet, turns around, and then straddles Quinn's lap. She places her hands on either side of Quinn's face and forces her wife to look at her. "You owe her nothing," she says, and the conviction in her tone of voice is startling. "The only person you owe anything is yourself, and even that is up for debate."

Quinn leans into her touch, smiling gently. "Are you going to reply to it?"

"Are you?"

"She sent it to _you_ ," Quinn points out.

"Only because she thinks she can't send it to you."

"What are you suggesting I do?"

"Anything you want."

It's entirely the wrong thing to say because Quinn visibly perks up, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "So, you're saying you wouldn't be opposed to me taking you to bed right now and having my dirty way with you?"

Rachel pretends to give it some thought, eventually choosing to give her wife this respite. Truthfully, even she wants a break from the rollercoaster of emotions they've been on ever since Quinn stumbled onto Rachel's old email address. "I suppose that _is_ what I'm saying," Rachel murmurs.

As a show of Quinn's considerable strength - given her previous spinal injury - she wraps her arms around Rachel's waist and rises to her feet. Rachel immediately wraps her arms around Quinn's neck and locks her ankles at the small of her back.

"We'll worry about this tomorrow," Rachel dismisses distractedly as she presses kisses to Quinn's lean neck.

Quinn is barely paying attention to what her wife is saying as she walks out of the office and turns towards their bedroom. They've said very few words to each other in the past eighty-seven hours and, now, all Quinn wants to do is say dirty, naughty things right into her wife's ear while she attempts to make them both forget these past few days even happened, by the sheer force of immense sexual pleasure.

* * *

Predictably, Quinn is successful.

* * *

.

* * *

 **To: judyevelynfabray  
** **From: lucyquinnfabray  
** **Subject: Unaware.  
Date: 7 December 2027**

Hi Mom,

I barely know where to begin.

Rachel has been doing this for years, and I had no idea. I'll be the first to admit that my initial reaction was not... pleasant. I've gone years actively trying NOT to think about you or Dad or Frannie, and now I find out that my wife has been feeding you snippets about our lives since Yale. It's almost unbelievable, and I exist in the literary world. Even I couldn't have written this.

I was angry, I think. Betrayed and hurt and all those horrible feelings you can imagine come with finding out something like this. It was unexpected. I'm still caught off guard by it, because I haven't really dedicated much time to thinking about any of you in so long. The events of these past few days have almost forced me to acknowledge my position in life and family, and it still hurts. All these years later and I still feel the pain of the loss as acutely as I did back then.

It's never going to go away, is it?

Your replies give the impression you want to get to know us and possibly apologise, or am I just reading what I want to hear? In the beginning, I used to dream of the day you would just show up at Yale and tell me you were wrong and you take it all back and you want me to come home. I dreamed of seeing you again and hearing you tell me that my sexuality doesn't matter to you and you love me regardless. I had all those dreams, until I just didn't anymore.

My dreams changed, and they started to include a woman (Rachel) and my loving (majority of whom are gay) friends, and the love of a family (which may or may not have included children). I found ways to bury my conflicted feelings about you all. Rachel told you that I've been in therapy, and I have.

I agree. Everyone should be in therapy. It's definitely helped me come to terms with several aspects of my life. My therapist, Dr Kungs, doesn't let me shy away from discussing my coming out. She thinks it's an integral part of my psyche, given the way my ideas of family and sexuality have manifested in my written work.

What I'm trying to tell you is that we've discussed you and how it would be if ever I saw you again. I imagined all sorts of scenarios (none of them good), and it was Dr Kungs who had me actually consider what it would be like if I were to get your acceptance. It was almost too much to fathom; too much even to think about.

And yet, here we are, and I'm unsure how I feel about it. I don't know what to say and I don't know what to do. I'm a planner, you see. Rachel and I are perfect for each other in that way because we're both very meticulous and we like details, so this is all just new and different for me, and I'm flailing helplessly.

So, I thought we could start over. Maybe. If you'd like that.

Here it goes.

Hi. I'm Quinn. I'm your daughter. I'm also Rachel's wife. We have a daughter. Her name is Charlotte.

I'm happy.

Apparently, it's all you've ever wanted for me, and I've managed to achieve it. Without any of you. In spite of any of you. I don't say that to be mean, but it's a truth I've held onto for so long. My life is good. It's great, really. I have a profitable career, wonderful friends and a loving family. I found people who accept me for who I am and not who they expect me to be. They're good, kind people, who LOVE me, and I've never considered that you would ever become one of those people as well.

I know.

I'm surprised too.

Your endless reply achieved what I assume you wanted it to. Rachel almost wanted to be the one to reply to you, but I insisted I do it. Though, you should expect something from her in your inbox soon. She's an impatient woman, and I think she would like to start an actual relationship with you now that we've agreed to let communication go both ways.

I think I want that too. A relationship, I mean, and you claim that communication is key in any relationship, so... we'll see what happens.

Kind regards,  
Quinn Berry-Fabray

P.S. We really do have a guest room (more than one, actually). I think your granddaughter would love to meet you. She's everything perfect about this world. She's untainted and beautiful, and I think I would be okay with your getting to know her.

* * *

 _t.b.c._


	3. Sit Next to Me

AN: The song used is _If Our Love Is Wrong_ by Calum Scott.

* * *

 **Part Three**

 **Sit Next to Me**

* * *

"Is she here yet?"

For the fifth time in the last twelve minutes, Rachel glances at the Arrivals' board to see that nothing has changed. She's nervous - she's been nervous since Quinn told her that her mother was coming to New York _for a visit_ \- and she's trying not to let it show. Quinn and she are convinced that Charlotte is actually an empath, because she seems to pick up on things so quickly. They've been unable to hide anything from her.

"Not yet, baby," Rachel eventually says, absently reaching out to run a gentle hand over her daughter's hair. The little girl is practically vibrating in her seat, and Rachel knows that if she severs contact; the girl is going to scramble away. It's moments like these that Rachel's certain Charlotte is Quinn's daughter. They're both restless and, yet, they can exude an abundance of calm.

Rachel doesn't yet know if Charlotte is a creative being - finger painting doesn't really offer many answers - but she's enjoying every second of learning about this tiny human being they've created. For the most part, Rachel still feels acutely disconnected from Charlotte in a way she's been unable to discuss with Quinn. Of course, she loves Charlotte fiercely and she's her daughter in every sense of the word, but there's this _thing_ that Rachel can't help feeling exists between them, and she worries it's going to end up manifesting in an ugly way when Charlotte is older.

Rachel can't admit to Quinn that she has nightmares that Charlotte will, one day, say the words: 'You're not even my mother,' to her. She's not sure she'll ever survive such a thing, and she can't _say_ the words to Quinn, even if she's convinced her wife will understand.

"Is she here yet?" Charlotte asks again, and Rachel slides her arm around her little shoulders, drawing her closer to her side.

"Not yet," she answers again, not even bothering to look at the board this time.

The two of them have gone unnoticed, which is mainly to do with Rachel's hat and scarf combination, but also to do with the fact that Quinn isn't with them. The three of them, together, are noticed more commonly than when there's only two. Somehow, though, Rachel _knows_ that's not the reason her wife isn't here. Quinn wanted to send a car to pick up her mother, but Rachel insisted they go as a family. Quinn disagreed, which resulted in a small fight that she doesn't think has actually been resolved.

The second she thinks it, her phone starts to vibrate in her pocket, which makes Charlotte giggle.

"Answer the phone, Momma," she says and, if she were older, Rachel imagines her rolling her eyes.

"Who do you think it is?" she asks Charlotte as she goes digging for the device.

Charlotte lets out a squeal when Rachel produces the phone, revealing the Caller ID. From the picture, taken more than thirteen years ago in a dingy bar bathroom, they can both see the person calling is Quinn. "Mommy!" Charlotte exclaims.

Rachel's lips curl into a small smile as she swipes right and brings the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi," Quinn says immediately, her voice surprisingly soft.

"Hi, Mommy," Charlotte says, scrambling to get to her feet on the metal chairs. She practically hangs off Rachel's arm to get her mouth as close to the phone as possible. She needn't bother, really, because Quinn can hear her.

Quinn lets out a soft chuckle. "Hi, Sweets," she says, just loud enough for Charlotte to hear.

"She's not here yet," Charlotte informs her blonde mother.

"Then we have to be patient," Quinn coos, and Rachel just about swoons. She will _never_ get over how it feels to witness her wife being a mother. "Are you being a good girl for Momma?"

Charlotte lifts her hazel gaze to look at Rachel, all innocence.

Rachel laughs softly, absently kissing her daughter's cheek. "She's being good," Rachel says to Quinn. "A little restless, but she's being a very good girl."

Charlotte beams at her before she goes digging in Rachel's handbag for the woman's _iPad_. Rachel lets it happen because she suspects Quinn isn't calling just to check in, and her wife wants her sole attention.

"Rach?"

"I'm here," Rachel says, pressing the phone closer to her ear so Charlotte can't hear.

"Baby, I'm sorry," Quinn says, and she sounds exhausted. "I didn't mean to pick a fight with you. I just - I didn't know how to explain to you that I think it's best that the first time I see my mother since I was eighteen _not_ be in a public place." She sighs into the phone. "I can't be sure how I'm going to react, and I - " her voice catches, and Rachel closes her eyes.

Rachel wishes she were home right now, so she can wrap her arms around Quinn and hold her tight. Why didn't she just agree to sending the stupid car?

"What are you doing right now?" Rachel asks, thinking it best to distract Quinn. Her own eyes flick Charlotte's way to see her playing on a _Dora_ App. Both Rachel and Quinn spent hours going through all the educational Apps on offer for children, testing them out and determining which would be beneficial for their daughter. As a result, they both ended up having endless nightmares about _Peppa Pig_ and _Paw Patrol_.

"Making a smoothie," Quinn says. "Do you know where the kiwis are?"

"Bottom drawer in the fridge. On the right. Behind the strawberries."

"Ugh," Quinn grumbles, and Rachel smiles.

It's an irony that Quinn _Berry_ -Fabray hates all kinds of berries, and their friends love to tease them about it. Santana always seems to take it a little too far whenever she brings up the fact Quinn _must_ like the taste of at least one particular Berry juice. To this day, Quinn still blushes a mad red. "Found them," she exclaims after a moment. "And, just for your information, they were behind the _blue_ berries, not the _straw_ berries."

"My mistake."

"I love you."

Rachel breathes out slowly, feeling her own tension relax somewhat. "I love you too, Quinn," she says. "Remember what I said, okay? You owe her nothing. _We_ owe her nothing. The onus is on her to try to fix what she allowed to break." She reaches out to touch Charlotte, just needing the reassurance. "It's going to be fine. You'll see."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I believe you've probably already played out every scenario in your pretty blonde head, and I can assure you none of them is going to happen."

Quinn huffs. "Even the good ones?"

"Oh, Dr Berry-Fabray, you must know that I know you far better than that," she says. "None of your scenarios is a good one, and we both know it."

"Well, there _is_ the one where she takes one look at me, and then turns right around," Quinn says. "It's probably the best I have."

Rachel sighs. "Quinn, baby, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be flying all the way out here just to make a mockery of us," she says. "You read her replies as well as I did. Does that sound like a woman who would - "

"Call me an abomination," Quinn finishes, and Rachel cringes. "I suppose you're right," Quinn allows after a moment of reflection. "I mean, I get that it's irrational and illogical or whatever, but it's a fear I have. I'm almost thirty-four, Rachel. Believe you me, I didn't expect one of my fears at this age to be seeing _my mother_."

"Wow," Rachel sounds. "You are _old_."

"Says you," Quinn says with a snort. "Excuse me, but _who_ is turning thirty-four on Saturday?"

"Hush, you," she admonishes with a chuckle. "Don't say that too loudly."

"It's literally only me at home."

"The age-gods can hear you."

"Baby, if age-gods even existed, then they definitely already know how old you are."

Rachel growls playfully. "Go away with your logic."

"I love you."

It's like a balm, settling over her and soothing every part of her body. She doesn't think a day will come when she'll tire of hearing Quinn say those three magical words.

When they first started dating, Rachel expected to be the one who ended up saying them first, but Quinn surprised her. In fact, every little thing about Quinn has been a surprise. While Rachel was initially hesitant to start a committed relationship with someone who didn't even _live_ in New York throughout the year, Quinn refused to use that as an excuse.

 _You like me, and I like you. Nothing else matters_.

At the end of that amazing summer after their sophomore year, Quinn purchased two Metro North passes, made Rachel promise to _try_ and the rest, as they say, is history.

"Oh," Quinn suddenly says; "did I tell you Kurt sent another sonogram of Baby A-H?"

"No," she gasps. "When? Let me see!"

Quinn laughs. "This morning," she answers. "I'll forward the email."

Rachel can't help her pout. "Why didn't he send it to _me_?"

"I've got them all on a collective strike against Rachel Berry's email," Quinn answers, sounding entirely too casual about the events that ended them in this situation.

"Quinn," she complains. "That's not very nice."

"Oh, Rachel Berry-Fabray, you should know by now that I'm not very nice," she says, and her tone of voice is so sultry that Rachel shifts in her seat. Quinn _knows_ what that voice does to her.

"Quinn," she says.

"Yes, baby."

Before Rachel can respond, Charlotte squeals, and Rachel almost drops the phone in surprise. She's just about to question her daughter when Charlotte suddenly points somewhere in the distance. "Look," Charlotte says. "She looks like Mommy."

Rachel's eyes snap upwards, and her heart skips a beat when she spots Judy Fabray in the crowd of outgoing passengers, her eyes searching. "Quinn," Rachel says into the phone. "I have to go. She just arrived."

"Oh."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Would you hate me if you get home and I'm not here?"

"Just a little bit, yes."

Quinn chuckles. "I'll be okay, Rach," she says. "Thank you, and I love you."

Rachel has just enough time to return the sentiment before Charlotte is shooting out of her seat and practically sprinting towards the still-unaware Judy. Rachel grabs the abandoned _iPad_ and rises to her feet. As she hurries after her daughter, she stuffs the tablet in her handbag and pockets her phone. She feels deeply unsettled all of a sudden, and she really wishes Quinn were here.

Charlotte reaches Judy first, coming to a stop right in front of the woman and tugging on her pant leg. Predictably, Judy startles, and spins around. Rachel doesn't realise she's holding her breath until she sees Judy's confused expression spread into a warm smile. It's oddly similar to Quinn's smile, and Rachel suspects she just might learn to like this woman.

Judy gets down on her haunches to be closer to Charlotte's level, and Rachel slows her steps, just observing. There's a long moment where Judy just studies Charlotte, and Charlotte lets her. "Hello," Judy eventually says.

"Hi," Charlotte says, not shy at all. "My name is Charlotte Bewwy-Fabway."

Judy hides her amusement at Charlotte's pronunciation with a smile. "And my name is Judy Spencer."

"Momma says you're Mommy's mommy," Charlotte says. "You look like her."

"And, so do you," Judy says, and it comes out almost whimsically. It's the moment Judy notices Rachel, and she immediately straightens, her eyes widening a fraction. "Rachel," she says, almost in awe. "Hi."

Rachel steps forward, suddenly feeling more at ease, now that she's seen Judy's reaction. "Hi," Rachel says, holding out her hand. She probably would have gone in for a hug but, if Judy is anything like Quinn, it's doubtful that'll be well-received.

Judy stares at the hand a beat too long, apparently, because Rachel's smile slips somewhat. Snapping to attention, Judy grasps her hand firmly. "Sorry," she says after a moment. "You just always struck me as a hugger."

"I am," Rachel says, just that bit more amused. "But I wasn't sure you were. I've had to wear Quinn down over the years."

Judy smiles in acknowledgement, even though she feels a twang of guilt. She can't recall the last time she actually hugged her daughter. It's only recently that she's started hugging Frannie regularly, and that's also to do with Rachel's unknowing influence. Judy is determined to be better.

"Maybe we can build up to that," Rachel offers kindly. "If I recall correctly, the two of us have been having two entirely separate, concurrent relationships with each other for eleven years."

Judy lets out an unexpected laugh. "Well, when you put it that way, it sounds odd."

"There are a lot of things about this situation that are _odd_ ," Rachel says, and then looks down when Charlotte presses a hand to her knee. "What is it, baby?" she asks.

"Can we go?" she asks softly. "That man is looking at me."

Despite herself, Rachel looks, and, indeed, there is a man staring at them. And another, and another. Rachel shakes her head, unsure if she's amused or irritated that the arrival of the older-Quinn (Judy Spencer) has managed to get them recognised. "We should get going," Rachel says, bending to lift Charlotte into her arms and hide her face in the crook of her neck. "Before we get hounded."

Judy has just enough time to register Rachel's words before the shorter woman is power-walking away. She hurries to follow immediately, dragging her suitcase only a few yards before a tall man emerges from somewhere and takes it from her. She's about to shout something when he smiles at her.

"Good afternoon, Ms Spencer," he says. "My name is Tom, and I work for Dr and Mrs Berry-Fabray."

Judy just blinks. "Oh?"

"Allow me to take this for you," he says a beat later. "I promise you'll get it back in one piece."

Judy's eyes track Rachel's movement ahead of them, and she seems undeterred by Tom's sudden appearance, so Judy lets it go. The aim is to get out of here as quickly as possible and, when they emerge from the building, Tom directs her to the front seat of a waiting town car. He opens the door for her, and she quickly climbs inside before peering over her shoulder at where Rachel is securing Charlotte into her carseat.

Rachel is just about done by the time Tom has secured Judy's suitcase in the trunk and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Ready?" Tom asks.

It's Charlotte who responds. "Ready," she almost shouts.

Rachel pats her daughter's leg. "Not so loud in the car, baby," she instructs gently.

"Sowwy," Charlotte mumbles. Then: "Can I play _Dora_?"

Rachel lets out a small laugh, and then produces her _iPad_ for her daughter, which will hopefully be enough to keep her occupied for the drive home. Rachel settles in her seat properly, shifts her seatbelt to be more comfortable and then looks forward. "Judy," she says, and the woman turns in her seat to look at her. "I'm sorry about that in there," she says. "We've been hounded a few times in the past, and the crowds can be scary." Her eyes drift to Charlotte significantly, and Judy immediately understands.

Baby comes first, and then mother-in-law's feelings.

Judy's not naive enough not to realise there's probably a multitude of other important things between those two on the list, but she's relieved to know Charlotte is the number one priority. "That's okay," she says. "I understand." She mulls that over for a moment. "Though, maybe, a long time ago, I might not have," she adds after a while. "I don't think I did all that much to protect my children."

Rachel isn't sure how to respond to that, so she says nothing.

Judy accepts the silence for what it is, and then asks, "How is Quinn?"

Rachel lets out a laugh. "Do you want the truth?"

"Always."

Rachel casts a look at Charlotte, notes that she's still occupied, and then answers Judy's question as honestly as she can. "She didn't get much sleep last night," she says. "She's been particularly stressed out since you confirmed you were coming. Writing a lot, and being... quiet. She's unsure how she's going to... react to seeing you again. It's - it's one of the reasons she's not here right now."

Judy nods thoughtfully. "And the other reasons?"

Rachel manages a smile. "I'm afraid, those, you're going to have to speak to Quinn about. I think I've revealed too many of her secrets to you for one lifetime."

Despite her disappointment, Judy accepts the end of that line of questioning. She knows she has a series of very difficult conversations coming up with Quinn and with Quinn's friends and family. She's not exactly looking forward to it, but she recognises its necessity. She intends to work her way back into Quinn's life, and she's willing to do anything and everything to fix what she allowed to break.

"She mentioned that she didn't handle the news about the emails particularly well," Judy says.

Rachel lets out a dark laugh. "That's bit of an understatement, Judy," she says. "I've seen _many_ emotions on her, but even I was surprised. She didn't talk to me for excess of eighty hours."

Judy visibly cringes, and Tom lets out a long whistle.

Rachel's eyes dart to Tom. "She'll _kill_ me if you tease her about that," she says, a slight reprimand in her tone buried under her amusement. "Do you want to be responsible for that? I'll be dead and Quinn will go to jail. Would you really allow Charlotte to grow up with my _parents_? You'll just end up with another one of me, and then you'll be the one suffering, because I'll be in Heaven, and Quinn will probably be running her own prison gang and you'll have to deal with another Diva Berry-Fabray."

Tom bursts out laughing, and Judy is unable to stop herself from laughing as well.

Tom shakes his head. "I'm just commenting on the length of time," he says, all innocence. "If I recall correctly, the last time silent treatment was involved, it was you, and it was only thirty-one hours."

"It was torture," Rachel says, a whine in her voice. "Have you _seen_ what my wife looks like? Try to imagine her actually putting in effort."

Tom looks a little dreamy. "I _have_ imagined it."

"Hey!" Rachel admonishes, swatting his shoulder.

"No, Momma," Charlotte suddenly says. "Spanking, bad."

Tom stifles a laugh, and Judy hides her smile behind a hand. Rachel looks alarmed for a moment before she turns her attention to Charlotte. "You're right, baby," she says. "Momma's sorry."

"Say sowwy to Tom," Charlotte instructs.

Rachel resists the urge to glare at Tom's obvious laughter as she forces out the words. "I'm sorry, Tom."

"It's all good," he answers entirely too casually. "It's understandable that Miss Berry-Fabray would have better manners than her diva of a mother."

Rachel actually gasps. "You take that back, Thomas Malone."

"What are you going to do if I don't?"

Rachel glares at the back of his head. They both know she'll never actually do anything. She loves him too much, and he's much too important to their family. He's been with them for quite a few years now, accompanying them on their various travels. It's unspoken between them that Tom is a little bit in love with Quinn, and Rachel has made it her mission to use her match-making skills to find him a woman who will actually be able to love him back.

All in due time, she suspects.

* * *

Rachel almost expects Quinn to be gone when they get home, so she's pleasantly surprised to find her wife in the kitchen, sipping at her smoothie and reading _The New York Times_ on her _iPad_. There's a certain air of calmness about her, and Rachel has the sudden urge to sniff at Quinn's smoothie to be sure she didn't add in some kind of liquid courage.

"Hey, you," Rachel says softly, getting Quinn's attention.

The blonde seems to snap to attention, and her glasses almost fall off her face at the speed she lifts her head. "You're back," she says, and then looks past Rachel's shoulders. She frowns at the empty space, the unasked question in her eyes.

"Charlotte is giving her a tour," Rachel explains, approaching her wife slowly. "Our kid has a pretty neat bedroom, you know? That her Mommies painted for her, no less. She'll be talking about your mural for hours, if we're lucky."

Quinn wants to accept the distraction, but she just can't. "Please don't ask me how I feel," she suddenly says; "because I don't know what to tell you, and I definitely don't want to lie to you."

Rachel reaches out to touch Quinn's left hand with her right. It's the only comfort she thinks Quinn will accept in this moment. "If it makes you feel better, I suspect she's as nervous as you are, if not more."

"No, that definitely doesn't make me feel better," she says. "At all, actually."

Rachel lifts Quinn's hand to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to her palm. "What do you need?" she asks, already knowing the response. It's been a part of their relationship for years, because Rachel took it upon herself to make sure Quinn would always be comfortable enough to ask her for things. To this day, it's still a struggle she sees warring behind her wife's hazel eyes.

"Just love me," Quinn whispers.

Rachel offers her a genuine smile, and then kisses her forehead. "For always."

"For forever."

* * *

Quinn has imagined this very moment many times in her life. For whatever reason, she expects her mother to look the way she remembers, as if she hasn't aged in the more than fifteen years they haven't seen each other. So, it's a bit of a surprise to Quinn to see an older Judy Fabray than she remembers, standing in the living room of the home she shares with her wife and daughter.

The first thing Quinn does is wonder if she's going to look like her mother when she's that age, and it unsettles her slightly. Well, maybe more than a little because, the second Charlotte senses her mother's distress; she abandons the story she's telling Judy and makes her way over to Quinn. Silently, she lifts her arms in the universal sign of 'Up,' and Quinn immediately obliges, bending and lifting the toddler into her arms.

"You okay, Mommy?" Charlotte asks, her tiny voice filling the sudden silence of the room as her small palm moves to rest against the side of Quinn's neck.

"I'm fine, Sweets," Quinn murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of Charlotte's head. "Who's your new friend?"

Charlotte giggles. "That's your Mommy," she says. "She looks like you."

"And you look like me," Quinn says, squeezing her tight enough to make her squirm and beg to be let down. Again, Quinn obliges, and then looks at her mother, suddenly very unsure. She anticipated an endless number of reactions on her part, but apathy was not one of them. She has absolutely no idea what to say to this woman, and Quinn is a woman of words. It's deeply unsettling.

"Hello, Quinn," Judy says, breaking the silence.

Quinn blinks once, twice, and then says, "Hi, Mom."

There's something so childish about the way she says the words; almost breathing them out in relief. Judy is here. Her _mother_ is here, and the teenage girl searching desperately for approval is _bursting_ to be let out.

* * *

"Should we order in for dinner?"

Quinn is unable to look away from where her mother and daughter are looking at an endless array of photos on Rachel's _iPad_. Charlotte is educating Judy on everything she's missed in the past decade, at least. "Whatever you want," Quinn says distractedly.

Rachel sighs, feeling the distance Quinn is putting between them, and unsure if she should be accepting it. Quinn won't accept her comfort or affection, and it's unlikely she's going to give it willingly. With a sigh, she knows she's going to have to _demand_ it at some point. Gently, she pats Quinn's knee, rolling her eyes when the woman tenses, and then goes in search of her phone. Some Thai would be nice.

In the two hours since Judy reentered their lives, Rachel has been... on edge. It was Quinn's own initial apprehension that made Rachel tense. She's been watching everything like a hawk, her eyes scanning and analysing every little interaction. There's a part of her that _wants_ this to... end. Good or bad, at this point, is of little significance. She just wants her wife to _know._ She wants Quinn to have closure.

For dinner, Rachel orders a selection of food, even adding in a few meat dishes for Judy, and then disappears into the kitchen to wait. Despite it being the holidays, she has a few emails to respond to and she has to deal with a litany of tweets about her apparent appearance at LaGuardia Airport. On most days, Rachel doesn't handle her own social media. She has an entire Public Relations team that handles almost everything - including majority of her fan mail - but she has a firm grip on her _Twitter_ and _Instagram_.

The only line of defence she has before posting anything is Quinn, whose opinion she values more than anything. They decided, together, that they wouldn't post any pictures of Charlotte. Well, her face, mainly, because there's a pretty neat picture Rachel snapped of her wife and daughter walking hand-in-hand with their backs to her in Central Park that she _had_ to share with the world. She didn't think it could be possible to be so in love with her own family.

They eat dinner at the dining table, Charlotte leading the conversation, even if her speech is starting to slow and slur. She's getting tired, and it makes Rachel smile. Apparently, the excitement of meeting her grandmother is catching up to her, and her afternoon nap was much shorter than usual because of having to pick up Judy from the airport.

It's fine. It's the holidays. They can get back to their regular schedule in the new year.

Dinner, itself, is uneventful. Quinn eats very little, which is relatively normal, and Rachel almost expects it. What she _doesn't_ expect is for her wife to put significant space between them, and slide her hand away when it usually rests on Rachel's leg. The brunette can't decide if it's a conscious thing, and it only gets worse as Quinn offers to clear up while Rachel, Judy and Charlotte descend on the living room.

Rachel watches it all, trying desperately not to give off her tension. Charlotte is likely to pick up on it, though the toddler does seem more in tune to Quinn's feelings than Rachel's. It does, however, take a monumental effort not to growl out loud when Quinn enters the living room and chooses to sit on the one end of the couch - possibly as far away from Rachel without drawing too much attention to it.

Rachel counts to ten in her head before she gets to her feet and moves towards Quinn, her intent clear. There's something she expects to get out of this interaction, and she's going to get it.

"Quinn."

It takes the blonde a long moment to look away from the screen of her phone and give her attention to her wife. She barely even noticed that Rachel moved from her seat to take up the space beside her, leaving about a foot of space between them on the couch. "What's wrong?" she asks.

For a moment, Rachel contemplates not bringing it up, but she knows it's only going to get worse if she doesn't address it now. "Baby, why aren't you touching me?"

Quinn blinks in surprise, definitely not expecting to hear that. "Excuse me?"

"Why aren't you touching me?" she asks again. "Why are you sitting so far away from me, and _why_ haven't you kissed me in the last five hours?"

Nervously, Quinn's eyes dart towards Judy, who's busy listening to Charlotte tell her a story about a trip to the park with her Unca Puck, Auntie Meg and Cousin Ryan. "Rach," she starts to say, but she's unsure what her next words are going to be. "My mother is right _there_ ," she eventually decides on.

"I know," Rachel says, her sympathy only going so far. "So?"

"What do you mean 'so?'" she asks, almost incredulous.

"I mean exactly that, Quinn."

"I don't want to make her uncomfortable."

"Well, you're making _me_ uncomfortable," Rachel immediately counters. "Judy will get used to it, Quinn. This is your home, and I am your wife. If she can't accept that we love each other in our own home, then she's going to be using her return ticket sooner than she thought, okay? It's not your job to censor your affection just because you're worried about how she'll react. So, can you just suck it up and fucking kiss me already?"

Quinn gives her a curious look, and then dutifully leans across the space - that suddenly feels far too large - between them and presses her lips to Rachel's. It's a soft, lingering kiss, that makes them both smile. "I love you," Quinn murmurs against her wife's lips, and then pulls back. "And, I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry."

"Then, what _do_ you want?" Quinn asks, genuinely curious. "You know I would give you the world if I could."

"Oh, baby," Rachel breathes, resting her forehead against Quinn's; "don't you know you already have?"

Before Quinn can respond, she feels Charlotte climb onto the couch between their bodies. Their daughter crawls into Quinn's lap and curls into a tight ball, resting her head on Quinn's chest and closing her eyes. A little surprised, Quinn gives Rachel a questioning look.

" _Empath_ ," Rachel mouths as she smiles. Gently, she pats Quinn's knee, bends to kiss Charlotte's forehead, and then rises to her feet before addressing the other adult in the room. "Judy, would you like to help me make hot chocolate while Mommy and her Princess have a moment?"

Judy looks between Rachel and Quinn for a moment, and then gets up. "Of course," she says, and then follows Rachel to the kitchen. "Does Quinn still like cinnamon in hers?" she asks as they enter the impressive room.

"Oh, yes," Rachel responds, heading to the stove. "She likes a bit of whipped cream as well, and she always likes it made from scratch. None of that Instant stuff where you pour in the sachet. We're serious about our hot chocolate in this house."

Judy just nods in understanding as she watches Rachel practically float around the kitchen. While Quinn may be known for her cooking skills, it's obvious Rachel knows her way around the room as well. Quinn isn't always around, and Rachel has had to learn a few things. One does not be in a relationship with Quinn Berry-Fabray for more than thirteen years and not pick up a few things along the way.

"Do you mind grabbing some cups behind you there?" Rachel asks after a while. "Charlotte's sippy cup for hot chocolate is the _Batman_ one."

Judy raises her eyebrows in a combination of surprise and curiosity.

"Don't ask," Rachel says with an amused shake of her head. "She spent a weekend with Noah and Meghan a few weeks ago, and she's been obsessed ever since. Quinn _loves_ it, and I'm unsure what to make of it at this point. Noah claims he's done his one good deed now. She's a _Batman_ fan, and that's that. He can now rest easy."

Judy can't help her smile. "It takes a village, and all that?"

Rachel laughs in response. "Indeed, it does."

Judy retrieves the mugs and sets them out on a tray she finds beside the bread bin. She lines them up carefully, and then looks up to find Rachel giving her an amused look. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"No," Rachel immediately says. "It's just, well, I didn't expect you and Quinn to be so alike. It surprises me sometimes."

"Oh?"

Rachel's eyes drop to the tray. "Quinn sets hers up like that, as well," she says. "It's all so very _proper_."

Judy suddenly looks guilty, her gaze dropping down to the island between them. "It's part of her... training," she says, and she suddenly feels a little sick. "Both girls went through it, the way I did. It's almost, umm, debutante training, as it were."

Rachel nods, clearly following.

"It's supposed to be in preparation for marriage and running a proper home," she explains further.

"She's very good at it," Rachel says after a moment. "Cooking and cleaning and making sure we have enough groceries and all the supplies we need. You trained her well."

Judy swallows nervously, unsure what to make of Rachel's tone of voice.

Rachel says nothing more as she pours four separate cups of hot chocolate. She invites Judy forward with a gentle wave of her hand, and the two of them tailor the cups to each person's liking, Rachel dropping a block of ice into Charlotte's to cool it down quicker. "I used soy milk, by the way," Rachel says, almost as an afterthought. "Quinn doesn't mind and, surprisingly, Charlotte prefers it."

"I'm sure I won't even notice."

Rachel throws her an amused look. "Oh, believe you me, Judy, you're definitely going to notice."

Judy just smiles as she follows Rachel back to the living room, where they find Quinn and Charlotte sprawled out on the couch, quietly reading together. While Rachel sets the tray down on the coffee table, Judy takes a moment to admire her daughter. She hasn't allowed herself this opportunity; just to _look_ at Quinn, and take in all the gentle lines and straight edges of her ageing features. She's grown _so much_ , and Judy finds she could just stare at her for forever.

She suddenly understands what Rachel has been talking about all along.

"Mom?"

Judy snaps to attention to find three pairs of eyes on her; two hazel and one chestnut.

"Everything okay, Judy?" Rachel asks, concern in her tone.

It takes a moment, but a strong smile blooms across Judy's face. "Everything is perfect, dear," she says. "Everything is just perfect."

* * *

It's almost two hours later when Quinn can finally crawl into bed. Rachel is already under the covers, her focus on her phone's screen as she replies to a few messages and confirms plans with Santana and Brittany to have lunch together the next day.

Quinn's destination is Rachel - it always has been - and, like a cat, she nuzzles Rachel's chest with the side of her head, successfully dislodging the phone and getting her wife's attention.

Rachel laughs softly, absently running a hand over Quinn's hair. "Hello, _Minou_ ," she murmurs, dropping a kiss to Quinn's hairline. "Are you tired, baby?"

Without replying, Quinn snakes her arms around Rachel's waist and hugs her close.

Rachel recognises moments like these. Her wife isn't _overly_ affectionate. It took Quinn years to get comfortable with any kind of public displays of affection. Even though she was out and - relatively - proud; it was still some time before she would reach for Rachel's hand without hesitating, and even longer before she felt comfortable enough to kiss her even in front of their peers. So, when Quinn does _this_ , Rachel knows she has to pay attention.

It's a full five minutes later when Quinn finally speaks. "Do you think she likes me?" she asks, and her voice is so small; so much like a child, that Rachel's heart breaks a little.

A lot.

"Quinn, she loves you," Rachel finds herself saying.

"I know that," she says; "but does she _like_ me?"

Rachel isn't sure exactly what Quinn is asking her, and she shifts her hands to the sides of Quinn's face and tilts it so she can look at her. "What are you asking me?"

Quinn sighs. "I don't even know," she whispers. "Do you - do you think she's disappointed?"

"In what?"

"Me."

"Baby, no," Rachel says immediately, a certain strength in her voice that offers no room for argument. "I think it's going to take some time for you two to get to know each other, once more," she says. "This time, you actually get to let your mother know the real you. Let her _know_ you."

"And what if she doesn't like the real me?"

"Then she's an idiot."

Quinn chuckles. "I don't know how to feel about your calling my mother an idiot."

"You can call mine an idiot if you want," Rachel says, and they share a laugh. "I just - I don't want you to worry so much, okay? We're just going to take it one day at a time. Tomorrow, you and Charlotte will spend the afternoon with Judy while I go to lunch with Britt and San, and you can test the waters a little."

Quinn's eyes widen and she immediately straightens. "What? You're leaving me?"

"With Charlotte."

"Rachel, no," she hurries to say. "You can't."

"I already promised them."

"Then, we'll _all_ go to lunch. Together. The six of us."

Rachel shakes her head in amusement. "No," she says, and it comes out firmer than she expects. "You need to spend time with your mother, and I need to finalise details for Saturday's party."

Quinn's eyes narrow. "Oh, for when you turn thirty-four, huh?"

Rachel growls. "And there I was thinking of reconsidering my plans for the afternoon," she says, and then lets out a squeal in surprise when Quinn suddenly lunges for her and forces her onto her back.

For a moment, they just stare at each other, all the love in the world existing between them.

"I love you," Quinn says seriously.

Rachel slides a hand into her hair and pulls her down for a kiss. "Show me how much."

Almost expectedly, Quinn hesitates. It's only for a moment, though, because then she's kissing Rachel again, and there's very little hesitation involved when, just minutes later, she has her wife gasping her name into an endless abyss.

* * *

In the morning, Rachel wakes Quinn with a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder. She waits for the slight grumble of discontent before she moves her lips to Quinn's temple. "You have about ten minutes to get dressed before your daughter comes storming in here looking for her Mommy."

Quinn makes an indecipherable sound, and then rolls over, exposing her naked breasts to Rachel's wandering eyes. When Quinn catches her looking, a slow smirk spreads across her face. "See something you like?" she asks, her voice raspy from sleep.

It's almost too much for Rachel, and she's seconds away from straddling Quinn, but then she remembers that Judy is already up and about, and Charlotte is just minutes behind her. They don't have time.

Quinn can practically see it in her face. "I can be quick," she says, biting her bottom lip invitingly.

Rachel casts a look over her shoulder at absolutely nothing, says a mental _fuck it_ , and then gives in.

Willingly.

Wholeheartedly.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later sees Quinn sprinting into the Master Suite's bathroom and leaving Rachel to scramble to find her robe before Charlotte sees something she's entirely too young to see. She's cursing under her breath as she rights herself, feeling hot and bothered and _unsatisfied_. So much for 'I can be quick.'

Without putting up too much of a fight, Rachel allows herself to be dragged to the kitchen where she and Charlotte find Judy making breakfast.

"I hope you don't mind," Judy says, somewhat sheepishly, after their quick greeting. "I just wanted to do something, and I thought I'd make Quinn's famous egg scramble."

Rachel smiles widely. "I'm sure she'd love that."

"I don't know what to make for you, though," Judy says, frowning slightly. "When you told me you were a vegan, I did some research, and that means you don't eat eggs, right?"

Rachel nods. "No eggs, yes."

Judy blinks, visibly recalling all she learned about what being a vegan entails. "What _do_ you eat?"

"I usually just have a smoothie in the mornings," she says, clearly very used to having to explain her eating habits. "I add in a bit of protein to carry me through the morning, and I should be good to go."

Judy, admittedly, looks skeptical, and Rachel is caught off guard by how _Quinn_ the look actually is. She remembers Quinn looking a little out-of-sorts the first time she witnessed Shelby and Rachel in the same space - they are strikingly similar in appearance - and she gets it now. Though, she doubts she and Shelby are as closely linked as Quinn and Judy. At least the two blondes had eighteen years together before everything just fell to shit.

"Don't worry about me," Rachel says, attempting to dismiss Judy's worry. "You just take care of yourself and your daughter, and I'll take care of myself and mine."

Judy lets out a small laugh. "I still can't believe I'm here," she says, a hint of wonder in her tone of voice. "I have to pinch myself every time Quinn smiles at me."

Rachel grins at her. "Me too," she says, entirely too knowingly. "Don't worry - it's not something you'll get used to anytime soon."

Judy finds that she doesn't wish to.

* * *

"Please don't leave me."

Rachel can only find her wife's pleading voice amusing. Anything else, and she's going to give in. "You need this," she says instead, shaking her head. "You _both_ need this. Baby, the two of you need to talk to _each other_ , and you need to do that without me around."

"And Charlotte?"

"Would you rather I take her with me?"

Quinn seems to give the idea some thought. "I know you think we need a buffer, but I don't want to say something in front of her that I won't be able to take back," she says. "I can _try_ to censor myself, but I just _don't know_. I don't want to scar our kid for life." She exhales sharply, and then adds, "Well, any _more_ than I'm already scarring her."

Rachel reaches out to touch Quinn, her hands resting on her wife's shoulders. "Quinn? Baby, what do you need?"

For a moment, Quinn can't meet her gaze. But, when she does, Rachel can see the conflicting emotions in them. "Just love me," she says, and the pleading tone is much more difficult to ignore this time. "Please, just love me."

Rachel slides her hands from Quinn's shoulders, along her neck and into her hair. She tugs on the strands, knowing that Quinn likes that. "For always," she murmurs.

"For forever," Quinn mouths, no sound coming out.

Rachel wastes only a moment before she's pulling Quinn down into a tender kiss, letting her lips linger and trying to let her wife know that everything is going to be okay. Even if she doesn't really feel it. For some reason, she knows that the events of this day are going to be relationship-defining and life-changing. For the first time in a long time, she's unsure how to handle her wife. They've spent years getting to know each other and learning how to deal with each other and all the moods and all the ego and just _everything_.

Quinn wraps her arms around Rachel's waist and draws her into an embrace that settles every part of her body. "I love you," she whispers into Rachel's hair. "God, I love you _so much_."

"And that's okay," Rachel assures her. "It's perfectly okay for you to love me, Quinn. She understands that now. It's taken her years, but she's come around, and she wants to know you. She wants to know you and know your wife and know your daughter. She's wanted to know you for _years_ , so I think it's safe to let her."

"I'm angry," Quinn says, tightening her arms as her eyes close. "I'm hurt and confused, and just so fucking angry."

"And it's okay to tell her all of that," Rachel says. "Everything you're feeling is _okay_. There's nothing that's expected of you, remember? You owe her absolutely nothing. You owe _nobody anything_. Not me, not Charlotte, and not yourself. It's okay to tell her whatever you want to tell her, okay? Just tell her. Tell her whatever you need for _you_ , okay?"

Quinn nods. "Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

It's with a heart that feels both heavy and light that Rachel gathers Charlotte - and all her various things - up and leaves mother and daughter to talk. She knows they need this, and it'll help them both to do it as soon as possible. She offers Quinn a reassuring smile, and then she leaves, hoping above all else that she doesn't return to a - even more - broken wife.

* * *

"I thought I'd cook," Quinn says as soon as the door closes behind her wife and daughter. She's sorely tempted to run after them, but she holds her ground. She can do this. Of course, she can do this. She's been replaying this scenario in her head for _years_. It's just... different and all that.

Firstly, she didn't expect to be in her own home when the inevitable showdown would occur. Secondly, she didn't expect it to be at her own request, and she's still unsure how she feels about that.

"That sounds lovely," Judy says. "Can I help?"

"Sure," Quinn says, nervously shifting her weight from her left foot to her right. "Is there anything specific you want?"

"Why don't you make your favourite meal?" she suggests.

"It's vegetarian."

"That's all right," Judy says, and she means it. "Do you actually _have_ non-vegetarian food here?"

"Unfortunately," she answers, starting to walk towards the kitchen. "I mean, besides my bacon, we keep things in the freezer for whenever we have people over. Kurt and Blaine and Rachel's parents are rather open to our chosen lifestyle, but Santana will scream bloody murder if you try to feed her vegetables."

Judy dutifully follows behind her. "Is Charlotte being raised as a vegetarian?" she asks, unable to recall if Charlotte ate any poultry from the previous night's Thai takeout.

Quinn chuckles lightly, stepping into the room that is her domain. "Not really," she answers. "Because we try to have dinner together every night, it's generally vegan food we eat, but Charlotte eats just about anything. I mean, she's almost three, so it's not like she worries too much about her own diet. She's still tasting new things and learning whether she likes them or not. We're trying not to be those parents who force things on her." Quinn smiles at a memory. "Most of the time, Rachel is actually _negotiating_ with our two-year-old. It's hilarious."

"I can't wait to see that," Judy says, and Quinn immediately looks away.

Quinn shifts awkwardly, and then proceeds to open the fridge and study the contents. She knows what she'd like to eat, and she's going to make it. Silently, she starts to pull items out to make her famous Cheese-less Black Bean Lasagna. She's going to make it specifically for Rachel, because it's her wife's favourite dish, and it _is_ her birthday the next day. Preparing the meal will allow them time to talk while still having something significant to do.

Once Quinn has all the ingredients she needs on the kitchen island, she goes looking for her apron - a 'Kiss the Chef' one that LeRoy Berry bought for her the first Christmas she spent with their family - and another for Judy. She hands the checkered green one to her mother, and then they get to work in relative silence. Besides the few instructions Quinn offers every now and again, they don't say much else to each other.

While Judy crumbles the tofu, Quinn cooks the black beans with tomatoes, tomato paste, onions, oregano, garlic powder, salt and pepper. It's when the various dishes are prepared and Quinn is layering the baking tray with the pasta and various sauces that Judy says the words that open the floodgates.

"I'm sorry."

Quinn freezes at the words, and then sighs in defeat.

Well, apparently, they're doing this _now_.

* * *

"I swear, if you check your phone again, I'm going to start thinking you don't like me."

Rachel just sighs as she sets her phone face-down on the table and gives Santana her full attention. "Sorry," she says sheepishly, her heart thumping a little too loud. "I'm just worried."

"Did Quinn give you reason to be worried?"

"Oh, plenty," Rachel says, her eyes drifting to the back doors of the restaurant, where Brittany and Charlotte are feeding the ducks in the little pond behind the building. She smiles at the sight of her daughter's smile, feeling her heart swell.

"What did she say?" Santana asks.

"You know how it is with her," she says, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Sometimes, it's what she _doesn't_ say."

"Did she _ask_ you to leave her at home with her mother?"

"Definitely not," she says. "It was my idea, and she eventually agreed with it."

"Did she, really?"

Rachel laughs softly, shaking her head. "Sometimes, I'm convinced you know my wife better than I do," she says.

Santana meets her gaze, hearing but not registering the teasing in Rachel's tone of voice. "The only reason that could be is possibly because we're so similar," she says. "We're... cut from the same, as it were."

"I know," Rachel says miserably.

While Santana's parents and siblings are somewhat accepting of her relationship with Brittany, her grandmother isn't. The two of them haven't spoken since Santana came out, and it's unlikely that'll ever change. Santana's parents have _tried_ to make the old woman see reason but she won't budge, and Santana very rarely returns home for family functions. She won't go where she's not welcome, and she won't go without Brittany, anyway.

"You haven't really told me what you think about all of this," Rachel says.

Santana sips at her wine, her own eyes glancing her fiancée's way. "I guess I'm a little jealous," she confesses. "I would do just about anything for my grandmother to change her mind about me and my 'lifestyle,' but I've come to accept it for what it is. Like Quinn, I can understand what it's like to choose the love of a woman and have that make everything else worth it."

"It's a lot of pressure to put on a relationship," Rachel points out.

"I think you and Britt are doing all right," she says with a shrug. "I don't regret any of it, so I know Quinn doesn't either."

"I just don't want her to hurt anymore."

"What makes you think she hurts at all, Rach?"

Rachel raises her eyebrows, saying nothing.

Santana sighs. "Yeah," she says; "I suppose you're right."

Rachel shrugs in acknowledgement, and then says, "Just for the record, I already _don't_ like you."

* * *

"Did you think about me at all?"

Judy isn't surprised by the question, though she does wonder at how early in the conversation it's arrived. They're diving straight in, apparently. "Of course," Judy answers, her gaze never leaving Quinn's face. "In the beginning, I thought about you all the time. I wanted to go after you, but your father refused. I - " she pauses. "After a while, I forced myself to stop thinking about you as much. It hurt too much, and I thought I didn't deserve to worry about you."

Quinn stares at her for a long time, trying to figure out what she wants to say. "Did you wonder where I went that first night?" she asks. "If I spent the night in some ditch or under some bridge like the homeless vagrant I suddenly was? Did you ever wonder about that?"

Judy blinks. "I did."

"I stayed with Brittany for one week," Quinn says. "I cried nonstop for five of those days. I was heartbroken in a way I didn't think could even exist, and I'd been stupid enough to believe I prepared myself for whatever outcome was coming my way. But, when Russell said those words, it was like a shock to my system. Maybe, in the back of my head, I allowed myself to believe in the best possible outcome. I mean, I _had_ to have some hope, right, and I was _burned_ by it." She looks away from her mother. "I missed you, you know? Every day. Even the bad days when I absolutely _hated_ you, I missed you. It was all the silly things, you know? Your atrocious singing when you were making brunch on Sundays after church. Your complete inability to work the TV's remote. Your tendency to come looking for laundry at the _worst_ times.

"I even missed Dad's lame jokes and the way he always excused himself at nine o'clock to have his Bourbon and cigar in the den. I missed Frannie's silence. I missed being able to sneak into her room, even when she wasn't around, and just _feel_ her because, yeah, if she could get out, then so could I. And, I did. Just, not in the way any of us thought. It _hurts_. Just the memory of being kicked out like I'm trash burns me from the inside out. I get this ache in my chest that is almost paralysing, and I start to question _everything_. Every decision I've ever made. Every person who has ever treated me with kindness. Rachel calls them 'Doubting Days.'

"She's so patient with me. So loving and caring and so damn understanding," Quinn says. "I'm gay. I'm about as gay as they come. I love women. I love my wife. But there are times when I question myself. I once met this woman who said that I was just as likely to 'turn' straight as I was to 'turn' gay, and I sometimes think about that. It would make life infinitely easier if I were straight, you know? I would have an easier time in public or at interviews or just in life in general. I wouldn't have people threatening to take our daughter away from us. I wouldn't have my books being used as examples of how the Devil is at work. I would still have a family. I wouldn't have had to fight for _every damn thing_ that comes so easily to everyone else deemed to be _normal_ in this damn society."

For the longest time, neither of them says a word, and Quinn feels the heavy atmosphere settle on her chest, weighing her down. She doesn't want to be angry. She wants to have settled all her demons about this part of her life, but she hasn't, and it's eating away at her.

Making things toxic.

So, sucking in a deep breath, Quinn opens her mouth and says _everything_ she's ever wanted to say to the mother who once called her an abomination.

* * *

"I see you're still alive."

To her credit, Judy doesn't startle at Rachel's sudden appearance in the music room she found during her exploration of her daughter's home. Judy does drag her eyes away from where she's staring out the window, a cup of tea wrapped in both her hands, to look at Rachel. "I suppose I am," she says softly. "How was lunch?"

Rachel steps into the room. "Good," Rachel responds. "Britt tired Charlotte out enough that she fell asleep on the way home. I've just put her down."

Judy nods. "Have you seen Quinn?"

Rachel presses her lips together, contemplating whether she should be revealing this titbit about her wife. At this point, she's already given Judy so much; what could it hurt to give her a little more? "Not yet," she says. "Her office door is closed, which means she's writing. I've come to learn it's best to let her come to me. Majority of our past fights have been the result of my pushing before she's ready."

"You are a woman with a lot of patience."

"I am," Rachel easily agrees; "but I'm also a woman with a lot of love."

"For my daughter."

"For my wife, yes."

Judy turns her body to look at her properly. "You left me and Quinn to talk," she says; "but I imagine there are also a few things you would like to say to me, aren't there?"

Rachel folds her arms across her chest. "We were together for ten months before she told me anything about her family," she says. "I asked twice before, but she didn't offer any details beyond the fact that she has parents and an older sister. I learned early on to pick my battles, and she eventually came to me and told me that she didn't speak to any of you. She was very vague with the details in the beginning, just saying you didn't react well to her coming out, and she's _fine_. She obviously wasn't, but I wasn't going to say anything.

"She always insists she's fine. It's like some mantra of hers, and anything else is just unacceptable. She's got herself so convinced, and it breaks my heart _every time_. It's something she's been working on for years, but it still plagues her. Everything about that day. Telling you her truth and having you throw it straight back at her, without a care for how it might affect her." Rachel shakes her head. "Maybe I'm projecting my own anger at Shelby on you, I don't know, but I've seen Quinn struggle with this for _years_. I've seen her question everyone's affection and test their loyalties. I've seen her gaze longingly at all of us when we're with our families.

"It still _amazes_ her that my parents could love her, you know? She still gets this childish look of wonder in her eyes whenever my Dad asks her opinion on books, or whenever my Daddy invites her into the kitchen to cook with him. Do you know what it's like? To see this gorgeous, wonderful, beautiful and broken person go through that, and wonder if she'll wake up one morning and start to wonder if it was all worth it? If choosing to love _you_ was worth it?"

Judy is unsure how to respond to that, so she says nothing. She _doesn't_ know what it's been like for them, and she's not about to pretend to understand.

"I got scared, nineteen months in, when it was getting really serious, and we were talking about the future," Rachel says. "Quinn was coming to Columbia, and we were going to move in together, and it was as if we were deciding on our forever, you know? Here was this girl, essentially, and we were about to embark on this actual, real life, _together_. I freaked out a little, and we had our first, truly massive fight. I think she could sense my fear because, when it came down to it, she was willing to let me go." She closes her eyes, forcing away her tears. "She knew, even then, how hard it sometimes is to love her. She's always been convinced I'm going to leave; that I'll decide I no longer want her, and I've had to fight every single day to prove otherwise.

"You did that, with your bigotry and hatred and rejection. You did that when you let her walk out of that house and didn't go running after her. You did that when you chose _not_ to love _your daughter_ for being _exactly_ who she is, and I will never forgive you that. Never." Her voice catches slightly, and she clears her throat. "Quinn _needs_ this," she says. "She needs this, which is why _I_ need this.

"I love her, Judy. I love her, and I've spent years being _everything_ to her, but there's always been something missing, and you're _that_. Do you know what it feels like, to know that, no matter what you do or how much you give of yourself, it will never be enough, because there's a wound so deep that your presence could _never_ heal it? Do you know what it's like to spend your days wondering if today's going to be the day when she decides you're not actually worth it?

"Quinn is an artist in every sense of the word. She's a beautiful, tortured soul, and her experiences have given her that. Her _life_ has given her the tools and the skills to be profitable and successful, but even I know she would give up all of this for the love of her family. All the success and the accolades and fame; she would throw it all away, and I've worried endlessly if I was part of that package."

"You're not," Judy cuts in, needing Rachel to know.

"I know," Rachel says curtly. "I _know_. Logically and rationally, I _know_." She sighs. "My father, Hiram, told me, once, that if a writer, artist or creative falls in love with you; then you will never die. That sentiment has never been truer for me and Quinn. We exist in each other's lives and bodies and souls and art in a way that will always endure. I don't need you or anyone else to tell me our love is wrong, because it's not. It's never been, and it never will be."

Judy presses her lips together. "Quinn couldn't have found a better person to spend her life with than you, Rachel," she says. "Woman or not; that doesn't even matter."

Rachel swallows thickly. "That's right. It doesn't matter."

"Quinn would never give you up, unless you wanted it," she says. "She's already lost so much in this life, that she wouldn't risk losing you too."

Rachel shakes her head. "Please don't pretend to understand us. You don't _know_ Quinn."

"You're right."

"And you sure as hell don't know me!"

Judy isn't sure where this rage is coming from, but she's going to take it and accept it and not hold it against the brunette. Judy deserves it. She deserves _all_ of it.

Maybe her sudden acceptance shows on her face because, a moment later, Rachel gasps out loud, as if she's just coming back to herself. Rachel covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening. "Oh, my God," she says in surprise. "Judy, I'm so sorry."

Before Judy can get a word out, Rachel bolts from the room, clearly mortified by her own -

What _was_ that?

Quinn.

Rachel needs Quinn.

Without giving it much more thought, Rachel heads towards Quinn's office, her intent clear: get to Quinn. With a quick knock and a rushed, "Quinn?" Rachel waits.

When she doesn't get a response, Rachel still enters the office. She can be a patient woman all she wants, but _she_ needs affection. She needs to lay eyes on her wife, and she needs to hear Quinn tell her that everything is going to be okay.

Quinn doesn't notice Rachel's presence until there are hands on the back of her chair, and she's being spun around. "What the - " is all she manages to get out before Rachel is settling in her lap and snaking shaking arms around her neck. If Quinn is surprised, she says nothing. Instead, she abandons her typing and wraps her own arms around Rachel's waist.

For the longest time, neither of them says anything.

And then, into the softness of Rachel's hair, Quinn speaks. "What do you need?"

Rachel sighs into the crook of Quinn's neck, tightening her hold. "Just love me."

Despite the heaviness of this moment, Quinn feels herself smile as she says, "For forever."

Rachel smiles too, and Quinn can feel it against her skin. "For always."

* * *

"Should I leave?"

Quinn can't suppress her sigh, and it's a tired sound. All she wants is to get a glass of water and then return to Rachel, who's lying in bed and buried under four blankets. Charlotte is still napping - thank goodness for small mercies - and Judy is -

Well, Judy wants to know if she's outstayed her welcome.

Quinn turns her body to face her mother in the kitchen, both of them looking painfully awkward. "Do you _want_ to leave?" Quinn asks.

"No," Judy immediately responds. "That's the last thing I want."

"Then, don't leave," she says. "It's been an emotional day for all of us, and maybe we just need to take some time, okay?"

Judy nods.

"I'm going to spend some time with Rachel," Quinn says. "When Charlotte wakes up, she'll want some attention. Give it to her. Hold her as she fully wakes, and you can give her a snack when she's said more than thirty words. There's a snack schedule on the inside door of the pantry. It's normally fruit, but it's Friday and the holidays, which means she gets a little something special." Quinn runs a hand over her hair. "I know _we_ still have a lot of things to talk about, and Rachel is included in all of that, but I would still like you to get to know your granddaughter, okay?"

Judy nods, once more.

"Don't leave," Quinn says a beat later. "Just, don't leave."

* * *

Rachel can feel the tension in Quinn's body as the blonde holds her. They _should_ talk, but she's unsure what to say to make any sense of this. She's surprised by her own reaction to Judy, and appalled at how it manifested. _She's_ supposed to be the one who understands. She's supposed to be the strong, dependent one for Quinn while they all go on this emotional rollercoaster.

But, instead, her wife is comforting _her_ , and Rachel is unsure what to feel about it.

Sighing softly, Rachel turns over in Quinn's arms and looks into cloudy hazel eyes. There are questions there, but they both remain silent. Now isn't the time for all of that. Right now, they're going to lie in this bed and try to forget that the mother Quinn was convinced would never want her is in their _home_.

"I love you," Quinn finally says.

Rachel rests her forehead against Quinn's cheek. "Say it again."

"I love you."

* * *

Judy isn't going to leave. She doesn't want to. In fact, it's probably the last thing she wants, right now, and she's going to sit and wait it out like the patient, understanding mother she's trying to be.

To Quinn, and to Frannie.

When she thinks about Frannie, her heart jolts. She was supposed to give her a call in addition to the text she sent telling her about her safe arrival. Making the decision, she goes to her assigned bedroom, which is warmly decorated and boasts its own bathroom, to retrieve her phone. She has the inexplicable urge to lay eyes on Charlotte, so she makes her way to the little girl's room and slips inside. She crosses the room to the little bed and peers down at a slumbering Charlotte. She's splayed out on her back, a little lamb clutched against her side and her tiny chest slowly rising and falling.

Judy watches her sleep for a while, studying her features that are so much like Quinn's, and feeling her heart ache with every breath the girl takes. She doesn't want to miss this. She's going to do everything she can not to miss this.

Gently, Judy lifts the blanket a little higher and softly pats Charlotte's chest. "You keep dreaming, Sweets," she whispers, and then chuckles lightly. "You know, I used to call Quinn that when she was little. I doubt she actually remembers, but her subconscious must find it familiar because I heard her call you that." She smiles to herself, and then steps away. She walks towards the furthest window and sinks to the carpet, resting her back against the wall and spreading her legs out in front of her. She arches her back in a slow stretch, relaxes once more, and then dials her daughter.

Blissfully unaware of the blinking baby monitor sitting on Charlotte's changing table.

* * *

" _Hello, Sweetheart_."

Rachel doesn't dare breathe too loudly as she and Quinn lie frozen in their bed, each of them silently debating the ethics of listening in to Judy's conversation with... Frannie. As much as Quinn wants to offer her mother privacy; there's a bigger part of her that's intrigued - curious even - to know Judy's true thoughts on the situation.

" _The flight was okay. Much shorter than I remember it being_." Judy chuckles softly. " _That explains it. California is much further than Ohio. Forgive me. I am an old woman, remember_?" She releases an audible sigh. " _Things are... tense. I think that's how to describe it. I can't be sure. I'm flying blind here, but I'm willing to follow if they lead. I just want to make it better. I know, Frannie. I know_."

In the silence that follows, Quinn's arms tighten around Rachel and her eyes slip closed.

" _She's beautiful, Fran. She's grown into this accomplished, elegant, confident woman, and I sometimes just catch myself staring at her. It's almost surreal being able to_ see _her and talk to her and..._ " she trails off. " _Of course, I'm not naive enough to think we can just fix everything in a few days, but I want to get to know her. For real, this time. Properly. With no expectations, and no pressure. I worry about that, you know? I don't want to make this whole trip into such a big thing where everything is supposed to happen, because I don't see how either of us is supposed to live up to that._ "

Rachel presses a kiss to Quinn's jawline.

" _How are the boys, by the way? I haven't even asked. I miss them, too. Tell them I'll see them for New Year's. Oh?_ " Judy's surprise is clear to hear in her voice. " _You would actually want to do that? Are you sure? I don't know, Sweetheart. Quinn is still getting used to me, and I wouldn't want to tack on her sister and nephews to an already fragile situation. I know. Tell you what, we'll play it by ear, okay? I would love to see you sooner, of course, and I know you'd like an opportunity to talk to your sister, so we'll see what happens, okay? I know._

 _"Yes. Charlotte is as cute in person as she is in her pictures, if not more. She's a talkative little thing, which Quinn says she's inherited from Rachel. Well, yes. I think, among all the Fabray women of our little family, Quinn has managed to find the best spouse_."

"Isn't that the truth?" Quinn murmurs.

Rachel smiles because she can.

" _Is she taller in person_?" Judy says with a laugh, and Rachel grumbles something under breath. " _Sweetheart,_ _you're too much. She's lovely. Fierce and loyal and so loving. She's one of those who cares with all she is, wearing her heart bravely on her sleeve, and it's easy to see why Quinn is so enamoured with her. Gosh, Frannie, you should see the way they look at each other. The level of respect and understanding and love; it can fill the room right up until you're practically suffocating. Haha, okay, maybe that description isn't the best I've had, but you understand what I'm trying to say. Quinn is the writer here. Not me_.

" _Have I changed my mind? About what, dear? Oh. Well, yes. I wouldn't want to overwhelm them. Maybe I'll pass it along next year or something. Frannie! You take that back. I'm not... a chicken. Did you just call me a chicken_?"

Quinn chuckles, despite her confusion.

" _I think it's a bit stalkerish to present them with a scrapbook of every mention of Quinn in Lima. I mean, as far as I know, she_ hates _that town, and I don't think bringing it up at all is a good idea. Oh, we're... okay, I guess. We've done a lot of talking today, and I think we're all a little emotionally exhausted. I think they're catching a nap. I'm in Charlotte's room, watching her sleep. Frannie! That is_ not _what a stalker would do. You're too much._ " Judy laughs. " _Yes, I'm going to keep trying. I'll bring up the idea of your visiting if things keep going well, I promise. Keep your calendar open. I know you're just pretending - you're really a social butterfly. Don't lie to your mother, now._

 _"Is Ashley going to be spending any time with the boys this holiday? Cabo? With his new girlfriend?_ " She huffs in annoyance. " _Men. Hah. I'm going to tell Quinn you said that. I am. Definitely. She'll get a real kick out of knowing that you think she's got life figured out by staying as far away from men as possible._ "

And, almost predictably, Quinn _does_.

* * *

Judy is in a much better mood when she eventually gets off the phone with Frannie. She misses her daughter, and she tries to come to terms with her feelings about, essentially, choosing to spend the holidays with Quinn over Frannie. There's a bit of guilt, of course, but Frannie understands. She's been blessed with that much, at least: understanding daughters.

She can only hope they're forgiving too.

Judy is startled out of her thoughts by the sight of little feet suddenly at her side. Her eyes drift upwards to find Charlotte standing there, one hand clutching her lamb and the other rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Hi," Judy whispers, her arms automatically opening in invitation.

Charlotte doesn't even hesitate - which stirs warmth within Judy - before she's practically falling into Judy's embrace. Like Quinn said, Judy just _holds_ her as she wakes fully, gently rubbing a hand over her back and letting her come back to reality slowly. It takes longer than Judy expects, but she's not complaining.

Because, well, once Charlotte starts talking, she doesn't want to stop.

"Are you sad, Gramma?" Charlotte asks.

"No, Honey," Judy immediately says, a little thrown by the little girl's ability to pick up on her emotions. "Just a little tired."

Charlotte grins at her. "You nap," she declares.

Judy chuckles. "But, if I catch a nap, who's going to give you a snack?"

Charlotte's eyes light up. "A snack?"

Judy pokes her gently, and she scrambles to her feet. With all the seriousness in the world, she holds out a hand as if to help Judy up, and there's such a profound innocence to the action - that she doesn't even realise she is somewhat incapable of doing - that tugs on Judy's heartstrings. Judy reaches out to smooth down Charlotte's hair. "You're very special, did you know that?" she whispers.

Charlotte gives her a curious look before she nods. "Momma says that all the time."

* * *

It's almost an hour later that Quinn emerges from the Master bedroom and finds her mother and daughter watching approved cartoons in the TV room. They're sitting on the main couch, Charlotte curled up in Judy's lap, and it constantly amazes Quinn how wonderful her daughter actually is.

Quinn watches them for a few minutes before she enters the room, drawing attention to herself.

"Mommy!" Charlotte immediately squeals, jumping up and making Judy gasp as she immediately reaches for Charlotte's waist, so she doesn't go flying. Completely oblivious to the danger, Charlotte raises her hands towards her mother, and Quinn scoops her up. With a tickle to her tummy, Quinn hangs her upside down and delights in Charlotte's excited shrieks and desperate pleas.

"Were you a good girl?" Quinn asks, unable to stop her own grin.

"I was good! I was good!" Charlotte says breathlessly.

Eventually, Quinn rights her and brings their faces close together. "It's Momma's birthday tomorrow," Quinn says.

"I know!"

"Do you want to help me bake a cake?"

Charlotte nods her head vigorously, and Quinn has to lay a hand on the back of her head to stop her before she hurts herself.

"Okay, then," Quinn says, and then starts to carry Charlotte to the kitchen. She stops just before the door, and then glances over her shoulder at Judy. "Mom, you coming?"

* * *

While Rachel acknowledges her wife's somewhat pedantic trait of wanting to keep _everything_ clean and spotless and perfect; she is immensely _relieved_ to find the absolute mess that is their kitchen when she finally emerges from her self-imposed isolation. She bursts out laughing at the sight of three blondes covered in flour, all of them with easy, happy smiles on their faces.

"What happened here?" Rachel asks, and Quinn casts a guilty look her way.

"Nothing," Quinn immediately says. Then: "It was Charlotte's fault,"

The little girl in question looks confused for a moment before she points at Judy. "No, it was Gramma."

Judy laughs as she shrugs. "It was me, indeed."

Rachel and Judy exchange a significant look and, from that one moment, they both know that all is good.

Quinn glances between them for a moment before she settles her gaze on Rachel. "We're trying to bake you a cake," she explains. "Well, _I'm_ trying to bake you a cake, and these two are just here to make a mess and make my job infinitely more difficult."

Rachel shuffles into the room towards where Charlotte is - perilously, in Rachel's opinion - perched on the kitchen island. She kisses her daughter's forehead, unconcerned about getting flour on her own self, and then moves to Quinn. There's zero hesitation on either part as the two women meet in a soft peck of lips. They stare at each other for another moment, and then Rachel risks a look at Judy...

To find the woman beaming at them.

For the first time, Rachel is really convinced that everything can and will be salvaged.

* * *

Which is a feeling that disappears the moment Rachel opens her eyes on the morning of her thirty-fourth birthday. It's the second time she's woken up in the last eight hours but, this time, her wife's head isn't between her legs and Quinn isn't singing 'Happy Birthday' into the very depths of her soul. It's the greatest midnight wakeup she's ever had, and Rachel immediately reaches out with her right hand for Quinn.

Predictably, said wife is absent from the bed.

Sighing softly, Rachel shifts into a sitting position and reaches for her phone. She _knows_ it's going to blow up, and she's muted nearly all notifications in an attempt to get through this day as easily as possible. She appreciates all the well-wishes from her fans, but it can be deathly overwhelming.

She does have messages from her parents, which she replies to immediately. They'll be around after lunch, and that thought puts Rachel on edge. She's unsure if having Judy and her fathers in the same place is going to be a good idea, but what can they do now?

Rachel's musings are interrupted when the bedroom door suddenly opens and Charlotte comes running in. Her little legs can carry her only so fast, and she has to try three times to climb onto the bed - Rachel has to help her because this bed is quite high - to wish her mother a happy birthday. She practically screams the words into Rachel's ear, and Rachel's forced to pull back before Charlotte does significant damage.

Quinn chuckles from her position in the doorway, a tray held securely in her hands.

"We made pancakes," Charlotte says. "Mommy says it's special because you eat it in bed." Then: "Why don't I get to eat in bed?"

Rachel hugs Charlotte tightly, and then shifts her to sit at her side. She wants her close.

Quinn sets the tray in Rachel's lap. and then kisses her 'good morning.' "Happy birthday, Beautiful," she murmurs, lips against lips, and then straightens. "We've already started the cooking," she explains. "Uh, Judy and I are taking care of most of that, so you get to relax and enjoy a restful morning with our daughter."

Rachel looks up at her, questions in her eyes.

Quinn just smiles and bends to kiss her again. "I'm fine. We're fine. I love you."

It's enough to get Rachel to let her go.

Charlotte steals her attention a beat later and, yes, she's going to enjoy a restful morning with their daughter.

* * *

It's surprising to Quinn how well she and Judy actually work together. They don't talk much, which she suspects actually helps. There's a part of Quinn that wants to confess to Judy that she and Rachel heard her end of her phone call with Frannie, but she really doesn't know how to start that conversation. She's given it a lot of thought, though, and, after some discussion with Rachel, she thinks she could get on board with having Frannie here for the holidays.

So, she's going to wait. Maybe Judy will bring it up, or maybe she won't.

Either way, Quinn is surprisingly content.

* * *

Despite the ease through which Rachel gets through her morning, she _knows_ this evening's proposed festivities are going to be... difficult. It's important to her that she prepares Judy for the potential incoming hostility. After spending hours being talked _at_ by Charlotte, Rachel is able to fit in a relaxing bath before she makes her way to the kitchen. She's expecting to find her wife hovering over the stove but, instead, she finds Judy wiping down counters.

"Good morning," Judy says as soon as she spots Rachel, brightening instantly. "Happy birthday!"

Rachel automatically smiles. "Thank you, Judy. Truly."

Before the moment can turn awkward, Judy says, "If you're looking for Quinn, she and Charlotte just popped out to the store to pick up a few things."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Is that code for 'they went to pick up my birthday present?'"

Judy chuckles. "I can neither confirm nor deny," she says, and the atmosphere grows blessedly lighter.

Rachel shifts her weight to her right foot and presses her lips together in thought. "I think it's good they're not here, right now," she says. "It gives us a bit of time to talk."

"Oh?"

Rachel nervously bites her bottom lip, searching for the words. "About yesterday - "

Judy gently cuts her off. "It's okay, Rachel," she says. "Truly, it is."

Rachel sighs. "I thought, after all the emails, that I managed to get it all out, you know?" She sounds defeated, even a little irritated with herself. She's supposed to be the strong one for Quinn, calm and composed as they go through this transition. "Apparently, I didn't, and I think having you here makes it worse." She visibly shudders. "It's just, well, you look so... normal. When Quinn talks about that last day, I imagine... monsters, but you're just this woman; this _human_ woman, and I'm not sure what to do with that."

Judy remains silent, just letting her speak.

"We want you here," Rachel says. "We definitely wouldn't have invited you here if we didn't. It's never been about attacking you. We just want to understand."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Please don't be," Judy says. "It's fine."

They descend into a slightly-awkward silence, which Rachel breaks a full two minutes later. "You should probably know that my parents aren't your biggest fans," she says, suddenly feeling immensely awkward. "Like, at all."

Judy shouldn't be surprised by that, but it does put her a little on edge. She doesn't exactly feel 'unwelcome,' but the day is still young, and there are plenty of people expected to arrive to celebrate Rachel's birthday.

"Even though Quinn doesn't _talk_ about her experiences, she writes about them," Rachel explains. "She writes letters and short stories for us, at every birthday and Christmas and Hanukkah and all that. She gives us pieces of herself, and they _know_ the hurt." Rachel contemplates elaborating and, ultimately, decides to. "My Daddy, that's LeRoy, was sent to live elsewhere when they learned he was gay, and my Dad, Hiram; his family doesn't acknowledge that he has a husband or daughter, and he only ever visits them alone. They know what it's like, and it's something that Quinn has shared with them, and I'm unsure how they'll react to you."

"That's okay," Judy tries to reassure her. "I'm sure I can handle it."

* * *

No.

No, she can't.

It starts the moment Rachel's parents arrive, one of them asking, "Is she actually still here?" and it goes downhill from there. It's not even that they're openly hostile, because they're not, but Judy still feels their animosity rolling off them in waves. She feels it in her very bones. It's in every word that is and isn't said, and every look that is and isn't thrown.

It gets exponentially worse when Santana and Brittany arrive, the Latina _open_ with her hostility. Quinn tries to get her to tone it down, particularly in front of Charlotte, but it's difficult and awkward and Judy wants to hide somewhere.

But, no.

No.

She's going to face it and accept it and move forward with it.

By the time the get together is in full swing, Judy has spent most, if not all, of her time with only Charlotte, who seems to pick up on Judy's unease. The toddler keeps bringing her sweets and chocolates, already knowing that this is a version of comfort to which Judy will be unable to say no. It's cute and appreciated, even though her pile of 'gifts' is threatening to fall off the edge of the coffee table.

Quinn and Rachel's circle of friends is all in attendance, and Judy actually gets to _see_ Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Blaine, Noah and Meghan as they all move around the loft with a certain comfort that Judy does not have. She's greeted them all, even exchanged a few words with Meghan about baby Ryan, but now she's sitting on the end of a couch, quietly observing.

Also in attendance are people Judy has heard the names of but never seen their faces. Marcus is here with his wife, Stacey. Tom, of course. Quinn invited two colleagues from work, and Rachel has a few former cast mates currently locked in a discussion about the upcoming Broadway revival of _Evita_. There's talk of Rachel starring, but she's acting coy. She's going to have to discuss it with Quinn, particularly if they're expected to be in Los Angeles for preliminary work on 'Wish I Never Met You.'

Judy watches this all with a sense of morbid fascination. This is her daughter's life. These are her friends, and this is her family. Judy doesn't quite belong, and that fact is made so abundantly clear in this very moment.

But then Quinn will look at her, just for a moment, while she's in the middle of a conversation with someone, and Judy will feel her heart stutter. Her daughter is looking at her and seeing her, and she's wanted. By some cosmic miracle, Quinn actually wants her here, so, whether she belongs or not, she's not leaving.

* * *

"You're not exactly what I imagined."

Judy startles at the sound of the voice, and then visibly flinches when Noah throws himself onto the couch beside her.

"Meg and I had a bet going," he says, his eyes on hers; "on whether or not you would bolt the first night. We also debated whether you would try to get Quinn to 'see the light.' It's good to see you haven't. You just earned me a night with no nighttime wake-ups."

Judy isn't sure how to respond to that, so she doesn't.

"Is this what Quinn is going to look like when she's older? Because you're kind of hot for an older woman, you know?"

For her part, Judy is convinced he's joking until she realises his facial expression is dead serious. "I'm quite certain I'm almost double our age," she says.

"Not quite," he says coyly. "And, I was explicitly told by my wife that I get a Free Pass if ever Quinn wants to sleep with me, but we both know Q loves her wife too much, so you're the next best thing."

Judy looks horrified for two seconds, before she realises he's laughing this time.

"I'm kidding, Mama Fabray," he says, looking deathly amused. "Though, you _really_ aren't what I was expecting."

Judy shifts slightly, unsure if she's allowed to be comforted by the ease with which he's speaking to her. "What were you expecting?"

"A monster."

Judy's breath catches.

"There's this piece Q once wrote about the monsters in the closet," he says, suddenly serious. He even straightens his spine. "It's this pretty dark tale about a girl fighting to break out of the closet, and how she has to go up against all the 'monsters' determined to keep her locked away. I don't know why, but I've always just seen you that way, but you're obviously not." He tilts his head to the side. "I was Rachel's friend first, sure, but Quinn is my girl." He smiles almost wistfully, and Judy acknowledges that maybe every man in Quinn's life is destined to fall a little bit in love with her. "I'll protect her to my death," Noah says. "If she has the capacity to forgive you, then so do I."

Judy is unexpectedly touched by his sentiment. "I will keep that in mind, Noah. Thank you."

He pats her knee once, before he rises to his feet. Evidently, he can't resist saying, "You _are_ kind of hot, though." He almost leers at her. "For an older woman."

* * *

Rachel smells the cinnamon of her wife before she feels strong arms slide around her waist from behind. Quinn rests her chin on Rachel's right shoulder and audibly inhales. Just that action alone starts a fire in Rachel's belly, and she finds herself leaning back into Quinn, soaking up her warmth. The two of them are standing in the corner of the living room, their friends and family all around them, and Rachel is feeling content.

"I love you," Quinn murmurs, turning her head and pressing a kiss to the skin of Rachel's neck. "I can't wait until I can get you alone again."

Rachel's breath hitches. "We can sneak away _right now_."

Quinn chuckles, her body vibrating against Rachel's. "This is your party," she points out. "We can't just leave."

"Yes, we can," Rachel immediately argues. "We _can_ , because it _is_ my party. I can do whatever I want."

Quinn is about to respond when Kurt shouts: "Picture!"

It takes them an obscenely long time to get into position for the group picture, each of them vying for position. Rachel sits on the couch's centre, Charlotte tucked away in her lap, and everyone falls in around them.

Well, everyone but Judy.

Blaine sets up the timer on the camera and grins knowingly at them. "This is it, people," he says. "When we all post this picture tonight, _everyone_ is going to know you were invited to _Rachel Berry's_ exclusive birthday get together."

Kurt waves an impatient hand. "All right, all right."

From her seat beside Rachel, Quinn casts her eyes around the room until they settle on Judy, who's dutifully standing off to the side. "Wait, wait," Quinn suddenly says, and she uses Rachel's firm squeeze of her knee as permission. "Mom?" she calls out, and Judy's eyes snap towards her. "Get in the picture."

To her credit, Judy hesitates for only a moment before she's moving. Noah extends an arm, and Judy easily slides under it, joining the picture.

Joining the family.

* * *

"Mom?"

Judy looks to Quinn, accepting the slice of birthday cake her daughter hands her with a quiet 'thank you.'

"Is everything okay?" Quinn asks, noticing the almost nostalgic look on her mother's face.

"Everything is wonderful," Judy says, and she means it. "It truly is." She sighs. "It just pains me that I can't quite remember the last time we celebrated anyone's birthday like this, just with friends and family; just enjoying one another's company."

Quinn gives it some thought. "I don't think we ever did."

"I'm sorry for that," Judy says. "I did so many things wrong with you and your sister, and I don't even know how to begin to make it up to you."

There's something in her tone of voice that forces Quinn to make the decision. She's already discussed it with Rachel, but the decision is, ultimately, hers. "I should tell you something," Quinn says. "We have a baby monitor in Charlotte's room."

It takes Judy a moment but, when she does catch on, her eyes widen. "Oh."

Quinn looks a little guilty for a moment, and then she smiles. "That thing you weren't sure you were going to ask," she says; "the answer is yes. You should get to spend the holidays with _all_ your family too."

Judy looks at her for the longest time. "Are you sure?" she asks.

"No," Quinn admits. "Yes."

Judy nods. "Okay."

Quinn chuckles. "You understood that?"

Judy reaches out to touch Quinn's forearm, making the first physical contact since Quinn was eighteen years old. She stares at her own hand against her daughter's skin, their complexions similar, even though Quinn's skin is softer, less worn with age. "I know it might not seem like it, but I _do_ know you."

Quinn arches an eyebrow in question, and then smiles. "You do, don't you?"

"You're my daughter."

Quinn steps closer to her. "I am," she agrees. "For a while, I absolutely _hated_ that fact."

"But not anymore?"

"Yes, Mom," she says. "Not anymore."

* * *

.

* * *

It gets easier after that.

Quinn can't really say how or why, but it does. The days start to blend into one, and they fall into a nice routine of complete holiday bliss. Sure, there are still conversations along the way, with Quinn asking her questions as they come to mind. It takes her a while to bring up Russell, but Judy is patient and giving of any and all information.

"Last I heard is he's dating a tattoo artist half his age in Toledo," Judy replies, and Quinn lets out an unexpected laugh.

"Sorry, Mom," she says. "I know I shouldn't laugh, but that's just fucking hilarious."

For whatever reason, Judy starts to laugh as well, and that's how Rachel finds them a few minutes later as she and Charlotte practically dance their way into the kitchen. It's relatively early on Thursday morning, and they've managed not to explode in the one week Judy has been in New York with them. Having her around has been quite nice, Rachel muses. It allows her and Quinn to have their own extended afternoon nap - which may or not include an afternoon romp between the sheets - because Judy is around when Charlotte wakes from her own nap.

Rachel's parents have also toned down on their hostility, recognising Judy's efforts for reconciliation. If Quinn can be open and somewhat forgiving towards her, then they probably can as well. Santana is still prickly, but she's not derisive in Judy's presence anymore, and all their friends and family have been in and out of the Berry-Fabray home in a steady stream of visitors over the last few days leading up to Christmas. They'll _all_ be having dinner together on Christmas Eve - Quinn is cooking the ham and its vegan alternative - because everyone else has other familial commitments on the actual day.

It's really turning into a lovely, busy, family-filled holiday.

"Mommy!" Charlotte says excitedly when she spots Quinn, and she runs to her, immediately getting scooped into strong arms. "Morning, Mommy."

"Good morning to you too, Sweets," Quinn practically sings as she presses kisses to Charlotte's cheeks and forces a giggle from the toddler. "Did you say hello to your grandmother."

Charlotte looks at Judy. "Hello, Gramma," she says happily. "Pancakes?"

All the adults laugh, and Charlotte's gaze moves between them. "Sure, baby," Quinn eventually says. "We can have pancakes. Do you want the bunny shape?"

Charlotte nods vigorously, and then asks to be let down.

Quinn obliges, and they all watch her scamper off. Quinn raises questioning eyes at her wife.

Rachel shrugs. "I'm going to guess _Paw Patrol_ , but those things all kind of blur into one nightmare, really."

Judy laughs. "I quite like that one."

Quinn stares at her. "You know, now that you've said that, you're always going to be on cartoon-duty."

"I wouldn't mind," Judy admits softly; "I just like being able to spend time with her." Her confession turns the air in the kitchen heavy with emotion and understanding and... longing.

Rachel clears her throat. "So, Judy, what time are Frannie and the boys getting in?" she asks, breaking the moment and allowing the two somewhat emotionally-confused blondes a moment to compose themselves.

"Uh, at noon," Judy answers, her mind failing her for a beat. "Yes. They should be landing at noon."

Rachel nods. "So, what are the plans?" She looks to Quinn, who just shrugs. With a shake of her head, Rachel looks at Judy. "I think maybe you and I should pick them up," she says, "and then we can maybe meet Quinn for lunch at a restaurant, or we can come straight here and have our flighty blonde's stress-cooking."

Quinn exaggerates a gasp. "My own wife. I never."

Rachel giggles softly, and then crosses the room to press a soft kiss to Quinn's pouting lips. "Everything I do, I do for you."

"And now you're quoting song lyrics," she says with an eye-roll. "What is the world coming to?"

Rachel just kisses her again, and then looks at Judy. "How does that sound?" she asks. "Or, would you rather go alone? Tom will take you, and you and Frannie can touch base before you get back here."

Judy seems to mull it over. "Maybe - maybe I should go alone," she says.

Rachel nods, unsure how she actually feels about that. It's probably the best plan of action, though, and it'll offer the small family some time alone before the rest of the Fabray clan descends on their Tribeca home. From Judy's stories, it's made apparent that Brendan and Reese can be quite the handfuls. Rachel even took the time to purchase some age-appropriate games and toys to keep them occupied for the duration of their stay.

It's definitely going to be an interesting few days.

* * *

Once all the decisions are made, the four of them go about their day as if it's any other day. Quinn can feel herself getting tenser, but she pays no attention to it as she immerses herself in her daughter and her wonder at the very idea of Christmas. Quinn doesn't remember being as enamoured by the 'magic' of Christmas the way Charlotte is. In terms of religion, Quinn still tries to make it to church when she can, but her relative fame has made it a little more difficult.

She's been condemned enough times.

She still believes, though, in God and in His love for her. It wasn't easy for her to reconcile her own faith with her religion's supposed views on her sexuality, but she's managed to do it, and she's thankful for that extra bit of reassurance within herself. She wrote about it quite extensively in 'Graceless,' which had quite the number of religious institutions in uproar. Quinn has and will never shy away from speaking her words, and she's just glad to be able to give people something to talk about.

Before Judy leaves, she squeezes Quinn's hand, hugs Rachel and presses a kiss to Charlotte's forehead, and then she's gone.

* * *

Rachel watches her wife like a hawk. She knows Quinn can feel her stare, but neither of them is talking. In fact, Quinn is barely looking at her, but the tension in her body is plain to see. And feel. It's the reason Charlotte is currently curled up in her lap, her tiny palm pressed to the side of her neck and soothing her mother's racing pulse.

It takes Rachel fourteen minutes to make the decision to stand and cross the room to her family. Without requesting permission, she wraps them both in her arms and squeezes as tightly as she can without hurting either one. "I love you," she whispers. "I love you. I love you."

Before Quinn can even respond, Charlotte is speaking. "I love you too, Momma."

Rachel lets out an amused breath, and kisses Charlotte's forehead. "You are so special, do you know that?"

Charlotte nods. "I know," she agrees happily, blissful and beautifully unaware. "Even Gramma says."

Quinn exhales sharply.

Rachel kisses Quinn's temple. "What do you need?" she whispers, but Charlotte hears her.

"Just love us," their daughter declares, and Quinn's eyes fill with tears.

Rachel smooths a hand over Charlotte's hair. "For always," she murmurs.

"For forever," Quinn finishes, hugging her family _close_.

* * *

It's a complete whirlwind when Frannie and her two sons arrive, like some kind of unstoppable wave that doesn't offer you any time to get out of the way. Quinn is overwhelmed the moment they step through the door, trailed by a helpless Judy and a clearly-amused Tom - who, Rachel notices, stares just a little too long after Frannie to be considered strictly professional.

Well well well.

The first thing Rachel _does_ notice about Frannie is that she's not exactly blonde. Her hair is more brown than anything, and Brendan and Reese are both dark-haired and blue-eyed. They look exactly the same and sound the same, and Rachel is just grateful that they aren't actually _dressed_ the same. She hates it when parents do that. Isn't it hard enough trying to tell the difference without making it even harder?

Judy has spent the last hour trying to explain to Frannie that Quinn _won't_ respond well to being pushed, but her older daughter blatantly doesn't heed her warning and dives right in to _hug_ Quinn.

Rachel sucks in a breath, and Tom visibly stills.

Quinn stops breathing, her body immediately tensing.

The second Frannie feels it, she immediately releases her and steps back, suddenly looking sheepish. "Hi," she says. "So, I just wanted to - "

"Frannie," Quinn cuts her off, a certain harshness to her voice that makes the very _air_ in the room tense. "What _are_ you doing?" she hisses through gritted teeth, her eyes _hard_ , and Frannie recoils slightly.

"Frannie," Judy says, and then, "Quinn," but Quinn has already turned and is walking away.

Charlotte immediately follows after her, and Frannie looks nonplussed.

Judy shakes her head, sighing in defeat. "I _told_ you not to hug her."

Rachel doesn't immediately go after Quinn. Instead, she introduces herself to Brendan and Reese, who don't really recognise her. Which, admittedly, is a relief, given that she hasn't really acted in anything child-friendly. Even _she's_ too young for _American Horror Story_ sometimes. They're pleasant enough, buzzing with excitement about being in New York City for Christmas.

Rachel has so many ideas for how they're going to spend Christmas Day in the city - as a family.

"Rachel," Judy says, catching her attention.

The brunette seems to snap to attention, and then smiles at her mother-in-law. "I'll talk to her," she immediately says, and then looks at Tom. "Do you mind getting the luggage into the rooms?"

Tom raises his eyebrows in question.

"The beige and the blue rooms," she informs him. "Boys in blue."

He nods, and then disappears with the twins following closely behind.

Rachel looks at Judy once it's just her, Judy and Frannie left in the main living room. "I thought the idea of your going alone was to _prepare_ her," she says, unable to keep the accusation out of her voice.

When Judy doesn't respond, Rachel turns her attention to Frannie. "Hello," she says carefully. "I'm Rachel Berry-Fabray, your sister-in-law." There's a moment when Frannie starts to smile, but then it disappears completely when Rachel continues speaking. "Please refrain from hugging my wife without first asking permission." And then she leaves the room in search of her wife and daughter.

* * *

"Well, that went well," Frannie says uneasily.

Merely to prove that she's been spending a little too much time with her second daughter and her wife, Judy actually rolls her eyes.

* * *

"Are you going to hide in here forever?"

Quinn bristles at the sound of that. "I am _not_ hiding," she says, refusing to look up from the laptop screen in front of her.

Rachel bypasses Charlotte, who's playing with her large wooden blocks on the carpet of Quinn's office and rounds her wife's desk. Without asking for permission, she turns Quinn in her chair and settles in her lap. "Talk to me," Rachel says, bravely _pushing_.

Quinn sighs, her hands resting on Rachel's waist. "She shouldn't have hugged me."

"No, she shouldn't have."

"I don't think I'm ready for this."

Rachel kisses her cheek. "What do you need?"

Quinn meets her gaze. "Can I ask for something more?" she asks, her tone serious. "Can I possibly ask you for _anything_ more? You've given me everything."

Rachel shakes her head, her fingers sliding into Quinn's hair. "Not everything, baby," she says soothingly. "Let me give you this. Let me give you your family."

* * *

"Seriously, Frannie," Judy says, sounding equal parts irritated and exasperated. "What part of 'let her come to you' don't you understand?"

Turning away from the, once again, retreating back of her younger sister, Frannie looks helplessly at her mother. "I just want to apologise."

"I know," Judy says, injecting patience into her tone. "I know, Sweetheart, but Quinn isn't like you. She needs to settle into it, okay? There's no jumping feet first into this. Listen to me. Listen to Rachel. Pushing Quinn to talk when she _clearly_ doesn't want to isn't going to help either of you."

Frannie sighs in defeat, and then turns her attention to Rachel, who's been watching her struggle with Quinn for what feels like a hundred hours now. If it wasn't so sad, Rachel would find it amusing. But it _is_ sad, and all she wants is to make it better.

"What do I do?" Frannie eventually asks.

Rachel's smile is warm and understanding. "Listen," she says. "All you have to do is listen."

* * *

"Here."

If Quinn is expecting to have the moment of peace she so desperately wants, she's mistaken. She should know better. In fact, she's sure she _expected_ to be joined by her wife at some point, but having Frannie follow her out is almost unbelievable. As a result, Quinn doesn't say anything. She just leans further on the balcony railing with her forearms and keeps her eyes facing forward.

Frannie shuffles to stand beside her, mirroring her position. "Rachel sent this for you," she says, holding out a bottle of beer. "She says it's your 'Rage-Drink.' Whatever that means."

Quietly, Quinn takes the drink from her sister and immediately takes a swig. "It means that it's the only thing I'll drink when I'm pissed off," she explains, her tone still rather clipped. "Apparently, it's the only thing that'll keep me calm. Santana refers to it as my 'Butch-Drink,' and Rachel's just trying to be kind about it."

Frannie nods in understanding, but doesn't comment.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting," she says, resisting the urge to sigh in defeat. She's doing this all wrong. "I understand there are things you don't want to hear from me, and that's okay. My need to apologise to you is selfish, and I'm sorry if I'm coming on too strongly. I don't - I just - " she pauses, and then lets out an amused breath. "You're my baby sister," she says. "I should have been _more_ for you, and I don't know how to make up for that."

"Why do you think I even want you to?"

That gives Frannie pause. "Don't you?"

Quinn sighs. "What if I don't know what I want?" she asks. "Just three weeks ago, I was _certain_ my mother and my sister hated me and everything I stand for, and now you're both here, in my home, celebrating Christmas with me and my family. A family, might I add, that consists of a _wife_ and daughter. It's been quite a bit to get used to."

"I can only imagine," Frannie says after a long moment. "Actually, I _don't_ want to imagine what it's been like for you."

Quinn tilts her head. "Have you read 'Graceless?'" she asks. When Frannie nods, Quinn says, "It was _exactly_ like that, except I was _alone_. I wasn't confused and I wasn't going through some phase. I wasn't some sinner or some abomination, Frannie. Rather, I was _sure_. I was _certain_ , and you and your _family_ forced me to pay the price for being _exactly_ who I am." Quinn shifts to face her sister fully. "You think this is a choice, don't you?"

"I - "

Quinn raises a hand to silence her. "Maybe you don't think it _now_ , but you thought it back then," she says. "You thought I _chose_ to be like this, and you were wrong. God, if I had a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this for myself, or for Rachel. Definitely not for my daughter." She takes a breath, as if she's steeling herself for her next words. "I would not have _chosen_ to be kicked out of my house and family. I would not have _chosen_ to live a life where I am ridiculed and judged for deigning to go against what is believed to be the natural order. I would not have _chosen_ to have to fight so fucking hard for acceptance and basic rights. Believe me when I tell you I would never have chosen this at all.

"But, there is a woman in there who makes my heart sing. She lights up my entire world, and I love her with every fibre of my being. I've never understood how _that_ can be wrong. I've never understood how someone can look at me and tell me to my face that the strength and purity of this love I feel inside of me is _unnatural_. I've never been able to wrap my head around how people can deny something that is, essentially, good when they're perfectly fine with corruption and racism and sexism and poverty and all those inherently _bad_ things."

Frannie doesn't try to say anything this time.

Quinn deflates. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she immediately says. "I'm the one who's supposed to be doing the apologising here, remember?"

Quinn turns her head to study her sister. "Did you ever miss me?"

"All the time."

"Then, why didn't you call?" she asks. "I mean, _before_ ," she adds. "When I was still in high school and you were out in the world; even then, you started pulling away from me, and I've never been able to figure out why."

Frannie drops her gaze in shame. "I don't have the right words to explain that, Quinn," she says. "I - I got lost when I left home. Life and school and pressure all caught up to me, and I didn't know how to be the big sister you deserved. I still don't."

"All you have to do it show up, Frannie," Quinn says. "It's all I wanted back then, and it hasn't changed since. All you have to do is show up, and just know it means the world."

Frannie nods. "I'll remember that."

Quinn takes a swig of her beer, and then grimaces. "God, this stuff is awful. Why am I drinking it?"

Frannie laughs out loud. "If that isn't a sure sign the rage is gone; I don't know what is."

Quinn bumps her with her hip. "Shut up."

They exchange a look then, and Quinn suddenly knows that everything is going to be okay. She doesn't know _how_ she does, but she's suddenly certain.

Beyond a doubt.

This family they have; it's going to be just fine.

* * *

Rachel has to force herself not to jump to her feet when she spots Quinn and Frannie walking back in from the balcony. They're actually smiling, so she feels some of her unease dissipate slightly, but she's still wary. She doesn't know Frannie as well as she does Judy, and she's still unsure what to make of her.

Time will tell, she supposes.

When Quinn goes towards the kitchen, Frannie comes to sit on the couch near Rachel, absently asking her sons if they're enjoying the _Transformers_ they're playing with on the thick carpet. Frannie can practically feel Rachel's gaze on her, so, when she's sure the twins are occupied, she turns her focus on the brunette.

"We talked," Frannie says. "I - I think we might actually be okay." There's an air of wonder and disbelief in her tone of voice, and Rachel recognises the Quinn-effect at work. Her wife can be so disarming sometimes. "Maybe not today, but one day, and that's so much more than I could ask for."

Rachel smiles at her. "I'm glad you're here, Frannie," she says, and it comes out sincerely.

Frannie smiles right back. "Me too."

* * *

"Are you hiding from me?"

Quinn chuckles lightly, even as she sips at the wine she's just poured for herself. The kitchen is empty save for her and Rachel, wiped clean in preparation for the next morning's Christmas Eve breakfast. Charlotte wants waffles, and Quinn made sure they have all the ingredients.

Rachel moves towards her wife and wraps her arms around her from behind, moulding her own body to Quinn's. They both breathe out, relaxing at the contact.

"I'm not hiding," Quinn informs her, setting down her glass and turning in Rachel's arms. "I just needed some alcohol that doesn't taste like piss."

Rachel laughs, absently pressing her face into the crook of Quinn's neck. She inhales deeply, loving the lingering cinnamon that seems to follow Quinn wherever she goes. Almost instinctively, Rachel presses kisses to Quinn's skin. "Are you okay?"

Quinn's arms tighten around Rachel's waist. "I think so," she admits softly. "It's _a lot_ , but I think I'm okay."

Rachel smiles, and Quinn feels it. "What do you need?"

The words slips out with ease. It's the simplest thing she's ever asked for. "Just love me."

"For always."

Quinn pulls back slightly and kisses Rachel's forehead. "For forever."

* * *

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Before her sleep-addled brain has her swatting at the disturbance, Quinn's eyes snap open and she's greeted with her daughter's smiling face as she jumps on the bed. Quinn has just enough time to acknowledge her relief that she's actually wearing clothes - thank you, Rachel - before Charlotte is pouncing on her.

"It's Chwistmas Eve!" Charlotte screams in excitement, and Quinn does her best not to grimace as the volume. It's way too early for this. What time _is_ it? Where's Rachel? And, how is it possible for someone to be this excited for Christmas _Eve_? "Wake up! Wake up!"

Quinn groans internally as she shifts to sit up against the pillows. "I'm up, baby," she says, her voice roughened with sleep.

"You sound like a frog," Charlotte says, giggling.

Quinn barely gives her daughter any warning before she begins her tickle-attack, dropping Charlotte onto her back and making the toddler squeal in laughter. "What did you say?" Quinn asks. "What did you call me?" She lifts Charlotte's top and blows a raspberry against the skin of her stomach, which makes her shriek in excitement. "Take it back," Quinn says with a laugh as her tickle-torture continues. "Take it back."

"Mommy, no!" Charlotte laughs, trying to push Quinn's hands away. "Mommy, stop!"

Quinn is relentless, doubling her efforts and the laughter is practically bursting out of Charlotte's little body.

"What are you doing to my daughter?" a voice suddenly says, and Quinn freezes.

Charlotte uses the opportunity to scramble out of Quinn's grasp and hurry to the end of the bed where Rachel is waiting with her hands on her lips. "Momma," Charlotte says breathlessly. "Mommy was tickling me."

"I see that, baby," Rachel says, smoothing down Charlotte's hair. "Your Grandma is in the kitchen. Do you want to go help her make the waffles?"

"Yes," Charlotte says hurriedly, and Rachel helps her get down safely before she rushes off.

Rachel's attention immediately turns to Quinn, and there's something _predatory_ about her gaze that instantly sets Quinn's body alight. "I don't know if I should be jealous," Rachel says, taking steps back until she can close the bedroom door with her foot. She reaches blindly behind her and turns the lock. " _I_ want to be _tickled_ too."

Quinn groans. "How is it that something so innocent with my daughter could sound so _dirty_ with my wife?"

Rachel shrugs. "What can I say, Doc? You have _very_ talented fingers."

Quinn swallows audibly, her mouth suddenly dry. She doesn't think her voice would work even if she tried, so she's not going to. Instead, she raises herself up onto her knees and holds out her hands. With a gentle wave, Rachel willingly approaches.

God, Quinn has never been more thankful for the sound-proofing on which Rachel insisted.

* * *

Thoroughly satisfied, and even sickeningly smug, Quinn emerges from the master bedroom almost an hour later to find her family - _family_ \- seated around the dining table eating waffles and making a general mess of the various toppings. It's a pretty wonderful sight, and Quinn's steps actually falter at how _good_ it feels to have them all here.

In just a few hours, the rest of her friends and family are going to be here as well, and then this will _surely_ be the best holiday they've ever had.

"Mommy," Charlotte says when she spots Quinn. "Look. I made you waffles." She points to a plate set out in front of an empty seat that is obviously Quinn's.

Quinn stares at her appointed plate, which boasts a thick waffle piled high with every topping imaginable. She has to school her features not to grimace at the sight of the strawberries, and she just catches sight of Rachel's obvious amusement. She shoots her a glare as she rounds the table, dropping kisses to the tops of her wife and daughter's heads, before she takes her seat.

"This is a heart attack just waiting to happen," Quinn mutters under her breath, and Frannie laughs out loud, which earns her a heated glare from her little sister.

Judy can watch on only in amusement, her heart swelling with warmth and happiness she's never experienced before. Almost automatically, her eyes meet Rachel's, and she just knows the two of them are thinking the same thing. It doesn't even matter _what_ that thought is, because this is good.

This is everything.

This is family.

* * *

The day, itself, is lazy.

The kids don't bother to change out of their pyjamas, though Charlotte demands to put on her reindeer onesie instead of the _Batman_ set in which she went to sleep. There's life and laughter in nearly every room as Rachel, Frannie and Hiram occupy the children, and Quinn, LeRoy and Judy take the kitchen by storm, mainly in preparation for the day's festivities.

Lunch is a 'help yourself' affair from leftovers and some of the freshly-prepared food. They're throwing Frannie right into the mix of things when Kurt, Blaine, Santana and Brittany arrive. For whatever reason, Santana's hostility has lessened, and Quinn reasons she got most of it out on Judy throughout the week. Baby Ryan takes a quick liking to Frannie when Noah and Meghan arrive, and he spends most of his time in her arms.

Rachel notes that Tom arrives much earlier than he initially said he would, and the man seems especially enamoured with Ryan (in Frannie's arms) today of all days. Gosh, the man is _transparent_. Rachel would find it much weirder if Frannie actually _looked_ like Quinn because, seriously, that's just - no.

Just, _no_.

Marcus and Stacey won't be joining them, but Quinn's one colleague - young and single and not wanting to return home for the holidays - Mike Chang shows up when Hiram is attempting to lead everyone in Christmas Carols. There are two of Rachel's former cast mates - from long before any of them even became famous - who show up together. Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones are two of her closest friends in the industry, with Mercedes having released two albums of her own and Sam stepping into the director's chair.

Unknown to Quinn and Rachel, Kurt and Blaine invited their surrogate, a young woman named Nicole Herman, who's almost seven months pregnant and entirely too precious. Kurt and Blaine fawn over her, and she just tries not to be starstruck by Rachel, Quinn or Mercedes.

By the time the food is ready and LeRoy declares that dinner is served, there's a nice buzz going around. The wine is being consumed, the music is flowing and the atmosphere is warm and light. They even have a fire going, and Quinn has _just_ managed to get the children to stop asking if they can open presents. The bottom of the tree is practically overflowing with all the gifts their guests have been piling on.

While the Berry-Fabray home is large, they do _not_ have a table that can fit all of them, so they rather spread the food out on the dining room table, and everyone can find a place to sit in the living room, dining room, kitchen or even the den.

"Who's going to say Grace?" LeRoy asks, and Charlotte raises her hand. After a small laugh, LeRoy says, "After you, Sweets."

Charlotte straightens where she's standing and clears her throat. "Dear God," she says in her little voice, all business. "Thank you for our food and our family. Amen."

Quinn can't help her smile as she says, "Amen." Her daughter, people. Succinct and to the point. So very unlike Quinn and Rachel.

Rachel wraps an arm around her wife's waist. "We have a pretty neat kid, don't we?"

Quinn turns her neck to kiss Rachel's temple. "Indeed, we do," she murmurs. And then, louder, she says, "Let's eat!"

* * *

Quinn doesn't think she could look away from the scene before her if she tried. She knows she's not the only one... mesmerised - it's probably the wrong word to use - by the sight. She can feel Rachel's palm pressed against the inside of her thigh as they sit on a couch in the living room and watch as Brendan, Reese, Mike, Tom and Noah participate in what is supposed to be a pie eating contest.

It's a shame, really, because the pies are _so good_ , and now they're being reduced to crumbs on the floor.

"Why did we agree to this, again?" Rachel whispers.

"I'm not cleaning up that mess," Quinn replies.

"I'm _so_ glad we have a girl."

Quinn chuckles at the sound of that and sits back, wrapping her arm around her wife and pulling her down with her. She smiles contently as Rachel snuggles into her side, that pesky hand sliding a little higher on her thigh and just bordering on inappropriate for public viewing. Quinn even has to halt her progress with a restraining hand to Rachel's wrist.

"Baby," she warns gently, and she's rewarded with a patent Rachel Berry(-Fabray) pout.

"It's been more than ten hours since I _felt_ you."

Quinn presses her lips together, shaking her head in amusement. "Don't you even start," she says. "You _will not_ turn me on in a room full of our friends and family."

Rachel's eyes flash at the hint of a challenge in Quinn's tone.

"Think of the children," Quinn says, and Rachel bursts out laughing.

Rachel shifts the hand on Quinn's thigh to her cheek, turning her head to face her, even as Noah jumps up in victory. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

Quinn just smiles, and then accepts the lingering kiss Rachel places on her lips. "I think I have an idea."

* * *

"A song!" Hiram exclaims when he sees Rachel enter the living room trailed by Quinn and her keyboard. "Ooh, what are you playing for us?"

Rachel just laughs at her father's excitement, and Quinn rolls her eyes as she sets up on the couch. The two of them are, admittedly, a little unsure about performing this particular song, but they've all come so far in just a few days, and it's a song nobody's heard from them before. It's brand new.

Quinn settles with the keyboard in her lap, her fingers pressing down on a few notes to test the volume.

"It's a new one," Rachel explains. "We wrote it just this week, actually." For a moment, she looks at Judy, and there's significance in that one exchange that only Rachel and Judy will understand. This entire thing started with the two of them, anyway. "It's called _If Our Love Is Wrong_. We hope you enjoy."

Rachel looks at Quinn, who nods her head once, and then starts to play the first chords. Rachel comes in a few bars later, and her voice carries through the room and settles in the very hearts of every single person present.

.

 _I don't know how I should say it_  
 _In my mind, it's every word_  
 _That they don't wanna hear_  
 _I don't know how they might take it_  
 _Maybe you can take the pressure_  
 _And make it disappear_

 _Throw out the inhibition_  
 _You make me feel a feeling that I've never felt before_  
 _I don't know if they're gonna like it_  
 _But that only makes me want it more_

 _'Cause I'm nobody's but yours_

 _If it's me_  
 _And if it's you_  
 _And if our love is wrong_  
 _Then I don't ever wanna be right_  
 _I don't ever wanna be right_

 _If it's real  
_ _And if it's true  
_ _And if our love is wrong  
_ _Then I don't ever wanna be right  
_ _I don't ever wanna be right_

 _Oh oh, yeah yeah_  
 _Oh oh , yeah I just want you to be mine_

 _Why would I need their permission?_  
 _Skin and bones, I'm only human_  
 _It's in my DNA_  
 _Suffocating just to fit in_  
 _Why do I care what people say?_

 _'Cause I'm nobody's but yours_

 _If it's me_  
 _And if it's you_  
 _And if our love is wrong_  
 _Then I don't ever wanna be right_  
 _I don't ever wanna be right_

 _If it's real  
_ _And if it's true  
_ _And if our love is wrong  
_ _Then I don't ever wanna be right  
_ _I don't ever wanna be right_

 _Oh oh, yeah yeah_  
 _Oh oh , yeah I just want you to be mine_

 _Oh oh, yeah yeah_  
 _Oh oh , yeah I just want you to be mine_

.

When the song comes to an end, nearly everyone is in tears. Even the ever stoic Santana Lopez is emotional, and she hides her face behind Brittany's shoulder.

Charlotte is so overwhelmed by the emotion she can sense that she's unsure what to do for a moment. And then, grinning in victory, she shouts: "Picture!"

It breaks into the heavy atmosphere, and Blaine jumps to his feet to arrange for the 'Christmas' picture to rival all pictures.

"Everybody, get in position," Blaine says, which really means Rachel, Quinn and Charlotte sitting together in the centre of the main couch, and everybody else falling in all around them. It's less fanfare than Rachel's birthday picture, and Blaine sets up the timer quickly and painlessly. Maybe they're actually getting better at this.

"Everybody ready?"

Blaine doesn't wait for any affirmations as he presses the button, and then rushes to join them.

This first picture is solely for them, with all their faces smiling. Rachel already has plans for a framed picture above the fireplace.

For the second, Rachel turns Charlotte's face inwards, and feels Quinn's arm tighten around her. It's the one they'll post, if they decide to.

The third sees Quinn pressing her lips against Rachel's hair. This is for their family.

And the fourth is a meeting of lips. This is for the Berry-Fabrays.

* * *

Quinn is the one to declare it's time for presents, which is just as well because Charlotte is losing the battle with sleep. While Quinn and everyone else prepares for the massive exchange of gifts, Judy, Rachel and Frannie get the children ready for bed - much to Brendan and Reese's chagrin - and LeRoy and Meghan start preparing hot chocolate and setting out the cookies.

The immediate family will have a proper exchange of presents the next morning, of course, so there are still presents to come.

When Rachel returns to the living room, everything is ready and waiting, and she deposits a sleepy Charlotte into Quinn's lap before covering them both with a light blanket and pressing kisses to both of their cheeks.

"The ones on the left tray are soy milk," Quinn tells her; "and Meg is bringing Baby's cup out now."

"Was it in the fridge?"

"A bowl of cold water."

Rachel just nods as she fetches a cup for herself and Quinn, and then settles beside the two most important people in her life. Charlotte rests her head against Quinn's collarbone, turning so she can see what's in front of her. She beams at Meghan when she's given her little cup, and then snuggles into her mother's embrace.

LeRoy takes charge then, directing presents and handing out cups of hot chocolate until everyone is comfortable and buzzing with excitement - particularly Brendan and Reese, who have to be reminded that they're getting the rest of their presents in the morning.

"Ready?" LeRoy asks, clearly enjoying himself a little too much. "Go."

Quinn leans back and manages to forget the world in this moment. She just watches as her family opens their gifts, their excited faces and happy smiles warming her from the inside out. Her attention is drawn to Rachel as she hands a half-asleep Charlotte a neatly-wrapped and Berry-Fabray-approved gift from Hiram and LeRoy. Charlotte can barely open it, and Rachel smiles knowingly at Quinn.

"I think it's somebody's bedtime," Rachel whispers, taking the present back and gently prying the cup out of Charlotte's weak grip. She takes Quinn's cup away from her as well, and then watches her wife's muscles flex as she rises to her feet with ease, their daughter cradled against her chest so as not to jostle her.

"We'll be right back," Quinn says to the room, and then follows Rachel as she leads the way to Charlotte's bedroom, where Ryan is already tucked away in the cot they keep for him in the corner of the room just for moments like these. They might all belong to different blood families, but this is and will always be one of their collective homes.

It's easy once they're in the room. They have a bit of a system, and it definitely helps that Charlotte is already clean and in fresh pyjamas. Rachel moves towards Charlotte's little bed and draws back the covers before shifting out of the way for Quinn to lay the toddler on the soft sheets. While Quinn fetches Charlotte's stuffed lamb, Lamby, Rachel sinks to her knees to tuck her in.

"Here," Quinn says, handing Rachel the stuffed toy and then gently massaging her shoulders as they both stare down at the product of their love. "Baby's pretty tuckered out, isn't she?"

Rachel hums, even as Charlotte's eyes flutter. "She's had a pretty exciting day," she murmurs, and then leans forward to kiss Charlotte's forehead before putting a hand out to pull Quinn down to kneel beside her.

Once in position, Quinn slides an arm around Rachel's waist and smiles at her. "Somebody wants me closer."

"I _always_ want you close, Doc," she whispers, reaching to steal a kiss from Quinn's lips. "Now, I do believe you have a story to tell."

Quinn chuckles lightly, her eyes drifting towards Charlotte. "A story, huh?"

"It's twadition, Mommy."

Quinn gives it some thought, and then settles on her heels to get more comfortable. She clears her throat softly, and then starts to speak.

Momentarily forgetting about the baby monitor sitting on Charlotte's dressing table.

* * *

It's Meghan who notices first, the quiet voices coming out of the linked baby monitor she's had clipped to her hip since she set down Ryan almost an hour ago. It draws her attention, and then Noah's, and, eventually, everyone has quieted down enough for them all to hear Quinn's gentle voice filtering through.

" _A story, huh_?"

" _It's twadition, Mommy_."

In the silence that follows, Hiram reaches for LeRoy's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. When Quinn starts speaking, nobody so much as breathes too loudly.

" _Once upon a time, in a land far, far away_ ," she starts, which gets a small laugh out of Rachel. " _Hey. Don't laugh. This is my story_."

" _I'm listening_."

They all are.

" _Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a princess named Charlotte, who lived with her two mommies_."

" _And her two grandpas_ ," Charlotte adds, her voice barely there.

" _And her two grandpas, indeed_ ," Quinn allows. " _Charlotte had a lot of family and a lot of friends and all the stuffed animals she could ever want, but she always knew there was something missing_."

" _A daddy_?"

There's a collective gasp in the living room, and Rachel finds that she's holding her breath as she watches Quinn work her jaw in search of the right words.

" _Do you think that's what's missing, Sweets_?" Quinn asks.

" _No_ ," Charlotte answers, and then yawns. " _I don't need anybody else_." She's quiet for a moment, and then she sleepily starts to list off all the important people in her life. " _I have you and Momma and Grandpa H and Grandpa Lee and Unca Puck and Cousin Ryan and Auntie San and Auntie Britt and Unca Blaine and Unca Kurt and Auntie Meg and Mr Tom and Mr Marcus and Gramma and Auntie Frannie and Cousin Brendan and Cousin Reese and Lamby..._ "

There's the longest silence as those words hang in the air.

" _She's asleep_ ," Rachel eventually says.

" _I barely even got into my story_."

" _You were taking too long_ ," she teases. Then: " _Do you ever worry about that? Charlotte asking us about her father_?"

" _Every day_."

" _Based on my own experience with Shelby, I can understand that she'll be curious_ ," Rachel says, and Kurt, Blaine and Nicole all exchange looks. " _I love my dads and I wouldn't exchange them for anything, but I couldn't quite deny myself the curiosity. Maybe daughters just need their mothers, you know_?"

" _I think, maybe, out of all the people we know, I_ would _know, yes_."

Rachel hums. " _Maybe, after these holidays,_ you _can start an eleven-year email single-sided conversation with Shelby_."

Quinn laughs softly. " _That's a lot of commitment on my part_." Then: " _We could try again, you know? I don't think your relationship with Shelby is unsalvageable. I mean, you guys_ actually _talk, so that's definitely further than Judy and I were a month ago, and look at how far we've come_."

" _You really have come so far, haven't you_?"

" _How can you tell_?"

" _You're glowing, baby_ ," Rachel says. " _There's this air about you, and it's followed you the entire day. You're happy_."

" _I am_ ," Quinn quietly admits, as if saying it too loudly will jinx it. " _I thought we had a great life, you know? I thought, there wasn't any way it could get any better. I didn't deserve for it to get any better, and I wanted for nothing more because I had you and I had Charlotte, and I didn't need anyone else, but -_ " she pauses, and Judy holds her breath. " _But it's so much better now. Charlotte's right. Now that my mom, Frannie and the twins are here; I don't need anybody else_."

" _Don't forget Lamby_ ," Rachel says, and Hiram lets out a tearful laugh.

" _I could never forget about Lamby_."

" _You know, when I sent that first email to Judy; I didn't expect any of this_ ," Rachel muses. " _I don't actually know what I expected, but reconciliation was far from my mind_."

" _You did all of this, you know?_ You _, Rachel_." She breathes out. " _This happiness. All my happiness, it lies with only you. You've always been this shining light in my life, and I know sometimes I don't tell you this enough, but I'm nothing without you. I don't want to be anything without you. This life and this world; none of it is worth it if I didn't have you or Charlotte. I hope you believe me when I say you are and will always be all I need_."

Rachel sounds teary when she says, " _I believe you. I didn't always, but I believe you. Of course, I believe you._ Somebody _has to keep you in line_."

" _I'm pretty sure that's Marcus_ ," Quinn says, and Kurt laughs, knowing that the man would definitely get a kick out of hearing that if he were here.

There's the longest silence, and the occupants of the living room are half-expecting the couple to emerge any second now. Still, the silence drags on until Rachel's voice sounds through the monitor, a whisper that may as well have been shouted from the rooftops.

" _What do you need_?"

" _Just love me_ ," Quinn immediately says.

" _For always_ ," Rachel returns, but her words are accompanied by Hiram, Kurt, Blaine, Tom and Brittany.

And Quinn's response of, " _For forever_ ," is said by her, Santana, Noah, Meghan and LeRoy.

Despite her tears, Judy's smile is practically frozen on her face.

* * *

Nobody says anything when Quinn and Rachel return, but the couple immediately picks up on something _different_ in the air.

"Everything okay?" Quinn asks, her hand in Rachel's as the brunette leads them to their original seats.

"Everything is perfect," Judy answers for all of them, and there's collective nodding.

Thinking nothing of it, Quinn lets Rachel push her down onto the couch, and then saunter off to heat up their drinks. The two of them still have presents to open, but Quinn rather waits and marvels over everyone else's gifts.

"It's exactly what I wanted," Tom says, looking at Quinn. "How did you two know?"

"We pay attention," she answers, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

"Oh, we _really_ pay attention," Rachel says as she enters the living room, a teasing lilt to her voice. She winks at Tom when his cheeks tint red, and then moves to sit beside Quinn, close enough to be indecent.

"Thank you," Quinn murmurs, quickly stealing a kiss. "Now, open your presents."

* * *

Kurt, Blaine and Nicole end up being the first to leave, just a few minutes after Frannie puts the boys to bed. It starts a wave of departures with everyone thanking their hosts and donning their coats. In twenty short minutes, everyone save for LeRoy, Hiram and Tom have left, and Quinn, Rachel and Judy start with the cleanup, carrying dishes into the kitchen to be washed in the morning.

"Uh, Rach," Quinn says on the third trip to the kitchen. "Is Thomas making the move on my sister?"

Rachel laughs out loud. "I do believe he is, yes."

Quinn grins. "It's a Christmas miracle."

"I think it's just one of many."

Quinn sets down the dishes in her hands and moves towards Rachel, gently pressing her against the kitchen island. "Is that so?"

"Oh, yes."

"Tell me another one," Quinn says, her breath warm against Rachel's cheek.

With zero hesitation, Rachel reaches up to kiss her. She wants it to be a quick meeting of lips, but Quinn wants otherwise, and they sink into a deep kiss. Quinn's hands find purchase on her hips, as her tongue gets drawn into a warm mouth. The two of them are mid-moan when a throat clears behind them.

Quinn releases Rachel immediately, and spins around, suddenly _mortified_ she's been caught making out with her wife by her _mother_. She flushes instantly, and Rachel just laughs as she runs a soothing hand up Quinn's spine.

Judy just looks amused. "Tom and your parents are set to leave," she says, absently setting a tray of empty hot chocolate cups on the island. "This is the last of it, as well."

Rachel merely nods, and then moves out from behind Quinn to say goodbye to the last of their guests.

Quinn follows immediately, unable to look her mother in the eye.

Judy can't help her laughter as she trails behind them. She hasn't seen Quinn blush like that in _years_.

She hopes to see more of it.

More of everything.

* * *

"I'm exhausted," Frannie complains, spreading herself out on the carpet. "And stuffed. I don't think I could eat anything for four days, at least."

Quinn, who's spread out on the couch with Rachel draped over her, just chuckles. "Did you have to pop a button on those jeans, huh?"

Frannie props herself up on her elbows, looking thoughtful. "You know, I think the kids know what's up. Life would be _so much_ better if we could wear just onesies all day, every day."

"You should write a letter," Quinn teases, her fingers absently playing with Rachel's hair. Her wife's eyes are closed, but she's not yet asleep.

"I think I will," Frannie declares, and then lies back down. She stares at the ceiling as she releases a long sigh. "Today was a good day, Lucy."

Quinn breathes out. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?"

Rachel lifts her head, gently resting her chin on the swell of Quinn's right breast. "Can we go to bed?"

With a nod, Quinn starts to shift, and the two of them rise to their feet. Quinn walks over to Frannie and holds out a hand. "Time for bed," she says. "The sooner you get to sleep; the sooner you get to dream about Tom."

Frannie just laughs, choosing not to comment as she lifts herself up with Quinn's assistance.

"Goodnight, Frannie," Rachel says from behind Quinn, absently rubbing her eyes of tiredness. "You'll be all right?"

"Of course," Frannie says. "Goodnight, Rachel."

Rachel merely hums, somewhat sleepily, and then leaves the room.

Quinn turns to Frannie, her own _goodnight_ on her lips, but she holds onto it when she sees Frannie almost debate with herself. "Everything okay?"

Frannie nods. Then, biting the bullet, she asks, "Can I hug you?"

Quinn is startled by the question, and she takes a tiny step back. Frannie reads it as rejection, and her face falls, which forces Quinn to push away all her apprehension. "Sure," she says.

Frannie's gaze meets hers. "Are you sure?"

Quinn allows herself to think about it for a moment, and then nods.

Frannie doesn't waste a moment as she wraps her arms around her little sister, holding her in a way she's never done before. "I am so sorry, Quinn," she whispers into Quinn ear as she feels hesitant arms encircle her waist. "I want to be a better sister to you, if you'll let me."

Quinn can only hum, unwanted tears pooling in her eyes.

They hug for a full minute, and, even then, they don't let go until another set of arms wraps around them both, which makes Quinn tense and attempt to pull away.

"My girls," Judy whispers, and Quinn settles. "My girls," she repeats.

And, what she's really saying is _my family_.

* * *

"I was wondering who was up and about this late."

It _is_ late.

Late enough that Judy was convinced everyone was already asleep when she snuck out of her room and out onto the balcony off the living room, just to take in the late night. She's been overwhelmed with life and love and family, and she needs a bit of - cold - fresh air to settle her tingling skin and racing heart. This is her life. This is the life she gets to live.

"What are you doing out here?" Rachel asks, stepping through the sliding doors in her silk pyjama pants and one of Quinn's Yale sweaters. Her feet are clad in thick, woollen socks, and she looks so _young_ to Judy.

Judy smiles warmly at her. "I thought I'd have a night cap," she says, gesturing to the bottle of wine and half-empty glass on the table at her side. "Care to join me?"

Rachel perks up, and then disappears back inside to fetch herself a glass. She's back a minute later, and settles into the lounge chair on the other side of the little table supporting the wine. Despite the time, she pours herself a generous serving, and then leans back to take a sip. She _loves_ wine, and she loves that Judy seems to love it as well.

"Is there something on your mind, Judy?" Rachel asks, breaking their silence. "You seemed particularly thoughtful at dinner."

Judy lifts her glass to take a sip. "I was just sitting there, and I had this thought that I've honestly never felt this... happy in my entire life. Ever, Rachel. Even when I was a child. It's never left me feeling so... breathless with excitement, and there's just all this love swarming around, and it's everything." She sighs. "I have to thank you, you know? I wouldn't have any of this if it weren't for you."

"I don't know about that," Rachel immediately counters, unsure how to handle the older woman's gratitude. "I believe in fate and destiny, as you know, and, if you and Quinn were meant to repair your relationship, then it was going to happen one way or an other."

"I've suffered through three crises of faith in my life," Judy says conversationally. "The first was when I was still a child and I lost my best friend in a car accident. The second is when Quinn left, and the third is when Quinn's father and I got divorced. I believe in God. I believe in all His wonder and His love. I believe in His plan, and it's taken me a long time to realise that, perhaps, love truly does conquer it all." She looks at Rachel, slight mirth in her eyes. "I also read those Harry Potter books you told me about."

Rachel laughs. "They're wonderful, aren't they?"

Judy shrugs. "I definitely have more to talk to the twins about, that's for sure."

"Don't lie," Rachel says with a laugh. "You _loved_ them."

"They're not bad."

Rachel can't stop laughing. "Oh, I bet you read them more than once, _and_ you bought the film boxset."

Judy shakes her head, clearly amused. "I think I prefer Quinn's writing, definitely."

"Me too," Rachel agrees quietly. "Every year, since I met her, she writes me a story, which I know is the most expensive present she can give me." She looks over at Judy. "She gives me a piece of herself with every word she writes."

Judy smiles wistfully. "That sounds lovely."

"It's my understanding she's written something for you, as well."

"She said so, yes," Judy says, humming as she sips at her wine, and then looks over at Rachel when the brunette suddenly gasps. "What?" she asks quickly, alarmed.

Rachel's face spreads into a wide smile. "It's midnight, Judy," she says. "Merry Christmas."

Judy breathes out, feeling herself relax. "Merry Christmas, dear."

The two of them settle into blissful and comfortable silence, and Rachel feels that happiness Judy was talking about. If she's being honest with herself, she'll have to admit that her life gets better and better with every second that Quinn is in it. The blonde has given her _so much_ , and she just knows it's going to get even better.

Happier.

Fuller.

All the good comparatives.

"Did you think it would be like this?" Rachel asks after the longest time, glancing over at Judy, who's staring out at the New York skyline with a look akin to fascination on her face.

Judy looks startled by the question. "What would be like this, dear?" she asks.

"I don't know," she says. "All of it."

Judy sighs, relaxing into the chair she's in that bit more. Her heart beats a little faster as she contemplates her response. "When I was pregnant with Quinn, I was... terrified. Frannie was already seven years old, and she seemed so... weak. Pliable, I mean. I knew, even then, that she would follow the world wherever it led her but, I knew, even while she was still in my womb, that Quinn would be different. Sometimes, I think she was born into the wrong family. Her dreams were so much bigger, and her heart was just _fuller_. We were always going to fail her. If not in one way, then in another."

Rachel sips at her wine. "So, you _didn't_ think it would be like this?"

Judy laughs softly, turning her gaze on Rachel. There's something on her mind that she's unsure she'll be able to express. "Quinn was a shy child, did you know that?"

Rachel can imagine that, and a small smile spreads across her features.

"She was quiet and reserved, almost invisible." She shakes her head. "Quinn's father always tried to _pull her out of her shell_ , as it were, by forcing her into social situations and asking her questions that demanded a response in front of large groups. When it first started, I worried she would buckle under the pressure. I thought it would all be too much, but she surprised me."

"She's constantly surprising me," Rachel cuts in, unable to resist.

Judy smiles knowingly. "But there's something about Quinn. This, almost, defiance. It's in her eyes, and they _glow_ when she's being challenged." She sets down her wine glass on the small table between them. "Those people thought my daughter weak and malleable just because she was silent; just because she chose to exist in her own head instead of their judgmental world. But, they _obviously_ never heard her speak." Her gaze meets Rachel's, and there's something significant there; something really damn important.

Rachel gasps, and she's not even sure why.

Judy's own gaze burns. "They couldn't know, even then, what lived behind the stormy eyes of the docile child. They couldn't know the strength of my daughter's mind, or the cutting of her words. They couldn't know." She smiles suddenly, as if she's lost in a pleasant memory. "My daughter is bold, brilliant and beautiful, and they couldn't know. She's full of surprises, taking the world by storm."

This entire thing started with the two of them, and it's bound to end with them, as well.

Judy looks at Rachel again, and she really _sees_ her for what feels like the very first time. "They couldn't know, Rachel," she says, somewhat hauntingly; "the _power_ my daughter possesses when she comes around."

* * *

 _fin_

* * *

 **AN** : Thanks for reading! I find I'm a little bit in love with this Universe, so I have a few one shots in mind of more detailed moments of Quinn and Rachel's relationship. I hope to get them out as soon as I can (a.k.a. when I eventually get around to writing them). Feel free to leave a review or PM me with a particular 'time' you'd like to see.


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